


Hurricane

by mrc_1205



Category: Hamilton - Miranda, Hamilton - Miranda (Broadway Cast) RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Bisexual Alexander Hamilton, College AU, Gay John Laurens, Henry Laurens' A+ Parenting, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Modern AU, Nonbinary Peggy Schuyler, Peggy uses they/them pronouns, Trans Male Character, Tw:Abuse, john is an (unknowing) gay mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:42:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25536787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrc_1205/pseuds/mrc_1205
Summary: This is a modern college AU where John goes to college to start a new life, so does Alex. When they are forced to dorm together those new lives begin to overlap. At first Alex hates John because he assumes John is just like his father but eventually they become friends - and maybe (Alex hopes) more.basically just your average college AU
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens, Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette/Hercules Mulligan
Comments: 68
Kudos: 106





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> some things to start:
> 
> there are no political motives behind this, but, it is a queer love story and I will have a bias however I will try not to let it show. Henry Laurens is a bad person in this AU because of what he does to his family and how he treats people - not because of his political beliefs.
> 
> Laf is a trans male although it isn't explicitly stated (it might be I've only written Chapter 1 so i don't actually know) as well as this Peggy is a non-binary person and uses they/them pronouns. I ask you to respect my characters' pronouns in the comments.
> 
> most of these characters are queer but I can't be bothered to think of their exact sexualities right now but yeah - basically no-one is straight. Also Laurens is oblivious to his own not-straightness (i don't know how he's very gay but ANYWAY) 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this but it is my first fanfic so tell me if it's horrible.

Chapter 1

Columbia, 2020. A big, old building. It looms over the street it stands upon and contrasts the other, newer skyscrapers. It’s browning, sandstone walls are accentuated by tall french windows on the ground floor looking into a small area filled with dining tables. Below a small balcony complete with an iron fence there is a large glass door. The door is decorated with more iron, this time wrought into a curly, flowery pattern instead of the prison bars of the fence above it. 

John Laurens walks into this old building and, while doing so, unknowingly walking into a new life. This new life begins with the one class he got to decide on his large list of classes that take up his Politics major. His dad put him into all the Polsci, debating and government (and of course to complete the languages side a French class John hardly needed) classes but those only filled up 9 out of the 10 spots on Johns major so, in his first act in his new life; John signed up for a fine art class. Of course his father had a lot to say about this like the fact that art is not a real subject and John should pick something more practical but for the first time John got his way. As John walks into the old building he takes in the large entrance hall. There are three lifts - two on one side of the room one on the other - and a small doorway John can only assume leads to the stairwell. Across from where John is standing a tall woman is sitting behind a desk, her curly black hair pulled into a high ponytail. To the left of the woman at the desk there is another large wrought door leading into the dining area John could see through the windows outside.

John walks up to the nice looking lady at the desk. 

“HI! You look new. I’m Angelica Schyler, I’m the RA of this building. Basically I’m in charge of all the dorms and making sure everything is up to scratch. What’s your name?”

“I’m John,”

“John Laurens?” John nods, “Okay you’re on the third floor and your roommate is Alexander Hamilton - he seemed like quite the workaholic when I saw him.” She lets out a soft laugh, she seems like just the girl Henry Laurens would love to set his son up with. “Room 357.” She handed him a leaflet along with a key.

“Thanks Miss Schuyler.”

“Call me Angelica.” he smiles at her.

John walks towards the stairwell instead of the lifts. He’s strong enough to carry his one small bag up three flights of stairs and the thought of getting into a crowded lift filled with other new students sends his heart into a miniature heart attack. He climbs the staircase and takes in the architecture, the same french windows as were in the Common line the staircase, only this time smaller. On each floor there was a small wrought door with glass panels. The entire building was beautiful even this seemingly unused staircase. John feels at home in the small room, mostly given no one else is here, John can simply admire the area without any judgemental eyes. He finally reaches the third floor and walks through the glass door and begins searching for his room - 357 he remembers Angelica saying. He makes his way down the plush carpeted hallway and looks through the several room numbers: 353, 354, 355, 356 here - 357. He puts down his hold-all and pushes the key into the lock the door swings open - someone is already in here.

The room is a backwards ‘L’ shape as Laurens looks at it from where he stands in the doorway. Looking straight ahead there is a window with a desk and a bed, other than that though, there was nothing. When John looks to his left, there is another window with a desk and bed in front of it. This side of the room has clothes strewn on the floor and the desk is covered in books and papers.

There’s also a small boy sat on the plain chair provided by the university, this must be the workaholic roommate then - Alexander - John thinks Angelica said. John seems to recognise the shiny black shoulder-length hair and hunched posture of the boy sitting hunched over his computer, typing furiously but he can’t quite place the familiarity. When Laurens clicks the door closed and begins walking to what he can only assume is his side of the room, the typing stops and the boy - Alex - looks up from his computer. This seems - to John - like the time to say something and bond with his roommate but he is struck into silence by the boy's beautiful face. His sleek hair falls elegantly onto his shoulders and perfectly frames his square face with his high cheekbones and sharp brown eyes. Luckily though, Alex starts talking :

“Hi I’m Alexander Hamilton.” He sticks his hand out and John shakes it. The boy has a glint of recognition in his eye but John doesn't want to push it.

“Jack.” The nickname rolls from John’s lips before he can think it through. He probably should say his full name and see if Alex does recognise him but the moment has passed before John can even think it through.

“Well, Jack you can call me Alex. What’s your major?” 

“My dad’s making me do politics but I’d much rather do art.”

“Oh I’m politics too; sucks about your dad though. He sounds like a piece of shit.”

“I guess he is.” John says with a sigh as Alex turns back to his laptop and the loud sound of typing resumes. John turns back to the blank white bed that sits on the right side of his window that lets in the bright light of New York City. He pulls his bag onto the bed and begins unpacking his clothes and neatly stacking them in the small set of drawers next to the desk. Once all his clothes had safely made their way to their new home John gets out his phone and begins mindlessly scrolling through his instagram. He only gets about a minute into this endeavour when he hears a loud knock on the door. Alex gets up and answers it, letting two men into the room. “Laf, Herc!” He hugged them both as he said their names. Laf has big poofy hair that has been placed into a high ponytail on his head, his eyes glimmer with some kind of shiny eyeshadow which accentuates his dark skin. The second man - Herc as Alex called him - is much bigger than the other two men and is wearing a dark blue bandana over his forehead. Herc leans up against the door to the small bathroom which is opposite the bed John is sitting on but he still doesn’t acknowledge the curly haired boy.

Laf started speaking with a thick french accent, “Mon ami, we were talking with Mademoiselle Angelica and she told us who you are rooming with.” Alex moved to interrupt when Herc spoke up. “He’s the son of Henry Laurens - the bigot senator from South Carolina. His name’s John.” He spoke without an accent - unlike his french companion.

John remains rooted to where he sits, as these men talk about him like he isn’t there - which to them he isn’t until Alex speaks up and looks directly into John’s eyes, “What the fuck. Your dad is that asshole? I thought your name was Jack?” 

The larger man turns to Laurens and spits: “Jack is a nick-name for John.” 

Laurens tries to tell the other boys that he isn’t like his father but before any words can fall from his mouth Alex’s opens up again. He begins full on screaming at John who can’t even make out his angry words, Hamilton says something about his immigration policy, his abortion policy and basically every other policy his father ever tried to get through congress. John totally agrees with the few fast-paced sentences he can hear but - always polite - lets Hamilton finish before he starts to explain himself. Right when Hamilton starts spewing about his dad’s new homophobic marriage policy another man comes into the room through the open door, he’s around the same height as Hamilton and his hair is cut short around his face. “For God’s sake Hamilton, shut up. I can hear you from three doors down.”

“Sorry, Burr, but I’m roomed with this piece of shit so, no, I won’t shut up.”

“Alex, just leave it alone okay; you’ve been screaming for almost 2 minutes straight” Burr retorts, “Can it wait till everyone is settled in.”

Hamilton lets out an annoyed sigh but doesn’t continue, instead he storms out of the room accompanied Laf and Herc, who shoot John some shady looks as they pass through the doorway.

Laurens remains sat still on the bed and thinks about what might have been different if he could actually get a word in and in some ways he’s glad he didn’t have the chance: he doesn’t know these people. They might talk about him and then his father might hear. He does not want to think about what would happen if his dad found out about John’s ‘radical leftist’ views. Maybe he would pull him out of Columbia, make him go to college in South Carolina. That is the furthest thing from what John wants. It’s probably best if he just ignores everyone and focuses on his studies, that’s his best hope for staying away from South Carolina and his father. If anything, it’s a good thing Hamilton and his friends hate him.

John just stays in his room, checking if the teachers set any pre-work ( by the way what the fuck? Who sets work before the year has even started ) luckily John doesn’t have any so he just sits around for a while. At around 6 he decides it’s probably best to go get some food and walks down the stairs into the entrance. Angelica isn’t sitting at the desk anymore, her warm smile replaced by another. This person had long, curly, light brown hair and was wearing a bright yellow shirt, John smiled at them as he walked past to get to the dining area.

As soon as John enters the room he feels as though all eyes are on him - especially from the table where he sees Hamilton and his friends are sitting. He pushes aside the thoughts - he’s probably just paranoid. He grabs a little bit of food and tries to get away from the large crowd by sitting at one of the empty tables by a window overlooking the street. He feels as if eyes are following him around the room but again wills himself to believe he’s just paranoid. ‘No one is talking about you’ he repeats over and over again, ‘nobody cares nobody is watching you’ John just can’t get the feeling out of his system that people are talking about him. 

He ignores his intuition and starts eating his small dinner. He actually feels pretty proud of himself, he’s ignoring the nagging voice in his head as well as the anxious knot his stomach curled into the second he walked into the crowded room. He thinks he’s going to be able to get through his meal when someone taps him on the shoulder.

“My name is Samuel Seabury. You must be John Laurens. I really like your dad’s policies.” ‘Shit, some dumbass bigot republican and his goons want to talk to me about my dad’ John thinks as they take the remaining seats at John’s table. John begins to feel very uncomfortable very quickly. He feels like they’ve invaded his personal space and he doesn’t have any space left to breathe, let alone hear, see or speak. The most likely highly offensive words all blurred into one big buzz in John’s ears, the boys aren’t relenting on their praise of Senator Henry Laurens though, not at all realising their words are falling on deaf ears. Out of the buzz Laurens can make out the laughs of these random people surrounding him. Although he couldn’t see or hear anything through the blinding blur of panic the nerves that covered his body seemed to have been set alight and everytime one of these imbeciles touch him it feels like he has just been punched. All he thinks through the haze is that he needs to leave but his legs aren’t working. They are abandoning him along with his words in his time of need. He wants with all his body to just get up and run out of the room but he can’t until the first bloke - Samuel Seabury - hits him on the back of the head . Samuel had meant it in a friendly way but as soon as his palm connected with Laurens’ thick curls. His body leaped into action. He stood up abruptly and muttered a sad excuse as to his absence then, as fast as he can he walks - or more stumbles from the Commons. 

As soon as he’s out of sight he breaks into a full on sprint, he keeps running, turning the corner if he encounters a stop light he turns. He thinks at some point that he must look strange to these native New Yorkers but he no longer has any control over his legs as he just runs and runs. John thinks he must have run for around 5 minutes when he reaches a rusty old gate next to a small apartment building. Just past the gate there is a large oak tree which shades an area of dark green grass with some old children's play equipment. The apartment building is made of dark red bricks and smells of damp. The windows are all boarded up - this building was deserted, along with the small playground next to it. John had studied several maps in his preparation to come to New York but doesn’t recognise this place at all. 

He walks through the old gate, cringing at the squeak sound it makes as he opens it. The grass feels soft and dewy under his feet, unlike the dry grass that’s in Carolina. John lets out a breath and sits down under the oak tree, using the fading red swing to ease him onto the ground his breath shakes but it feels nice to just sit and breathe. He thinks of how it’s getting dark and he probably shouldn’t stay sitting next to an abandoned building God knows where in New York but he casts that thought aside. Thinking instead of how freeing it felt to finally be alone in New York. His father or tutor wasn’t here to tell him to come inside. No one knew where he was, no one cared where he was. So, John just sat, he sat under the large oak and breathed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John makes a friend (don't worry it's not SS)!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me a long time to write but it's finally finished (although without much editing, I'm sorry!) It's also a lot longer than I expected it to be in my planning stages but I ramble a lot - there is a lot of pointless info in this chapter.
> 
> some things to start:
> 
> there are no political motives behind this, but, it is a queer love story and I will have a bias however I will try not to let it show. Henry Laurens is a bad person in this AU because of what he does to his family and how he treats people - not because of his political beliefs.
> 
> Laf is a trans male although it isn't explicitly stated (it might be I’m writing as I’m posting so i don't actually know) as well as this Peggy is a non-binary person and uses they/them pronouns. I ask you to respect my characters' pronouns in the comments.
> 
> most of these characters are queer but I can't be bothered to think of their exact sexualities right now but yeah - basically no-one is straight. Also Laurens is oblivious to his own not-straightness (i don't know how he's very gay but ANYWAY) 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this but it is my first fanfic so tell me if it's horrible.
> 
> Please comment what you think!!

That shady, secluded children's playground becomes John’s safe spot as he continues living his new life. Whenever his workload would get overwhelming he would take his laptop down to the grassy area and sits on the red, faded swing seat typing away, writing essays for all his politics classes. As his college career continues John tries his best to keep to himself to himself - it’s difficult as Samuel Seaburry and his friends keep trying to become his friends but whenever he needs to avoid them he goes to that secluded park. Nobody else knows about it and it’s always devoid of people - that’s why he likes it so much. When he’s at the park he doesn’t have to put a fake smile or laugh at any jokes that are not in any way funny, in his little corner of the world, for just a minute John doesn’t have to pretend.

John also creates a sanctuary in his Fine Art class, in which there are none of the ‘dumbass republicans’ as he has dubbed them, and he can just sit and paint. That is until the teacher tells them that for their next project they must partner up and learn everything there is to know about the other person - and then make a painting out of that. The thought of having to reveal his deepest darkest secrets to a person as well as having someone else do the same to him makes John want to disappear from God's green earth. While the teacher explains the details of the assignment John glances nervously around the room looking for anyone who looks trustworthy, friendly and gullible. He spots the person who was sitting at the front desk on his first day - they were once again wearing a bright yellow although this time in the form of a flowing summer dress accentuated with white daisies. They spot John looking and give him a smile, it’s nothing like John has ever seen before - the smile reaches all the way to their eyes and actually seems genuine.

The teacher tells them all to pair up and the person in the yellow dress immediately walks over to John, “Hi I’m Peggy! I use they/them pronouns do you want to work together.” they are so energetic John thinks they might actually be jumping up and down at the idea of working with him.

John is taken aback by how blunt they are in asking the question and almost declines until he thinks back to their smile and says, “Sure, we can work together.”

“Do you wanna come to my dorm later tonight then, we can start on the project.”

“Okay, what time?”

“Around 6, it’s dorm 243,” they call as they walk out of the room, skirt flowing as they do so. It’s only as they leave and John is left alone with his thoughts does he think of how stupid he was. If his father found out he was hanging out with an openly trans person he might kill him - but, John reasons with himself, he could blame the teacher and besides they just looked so genuine John could hardly turn them down. 

It was only as he walks to his next class that he realises this is his opportunity to make a friend, the thought seems both daunting and exciting. Maybe John will have someone to share his safe spot with and he will stop feeling so lonely. Suddenly, John feels a lot more excited for that evening.

When that evening does roll around John feels a rolling pit of anxiety in his gut - what if they don’t like him, what if he’s an asshole by accident. His thoughts are cut short when the door to dorm room 243 is pulled wide open to reveal Peggy, still in their bright summer dress from art class. They usher John into the small dorm room which has three beds in it, unlike John’s. These extra pieces of furniture make the room feel a lot more cramped - although that is also aided by the fact that there are clothes strewn all over the place. 

“Sorry about the mess,” they laugh, “sorry, I just realised I never actually got your name.”

“Jack, or John but my roommate calls me Laurens - that’s my last name,” John wishes, more than anything that he could just shut up.

“Your roommates with Alex, right?” John just nods. “You know he talks about your dad a lot - and you too.” John laughs, unsure of how to react to such a comment. Peggy - completely oblivious to John’s uncomfort - ploughs on, “I don’t think he likes you much.”

“My dad’s kinda an asshole.”

“Well you’re not your dad.” Peggy smiled at him - the same one as they gave him in art, it warms John in a way nobody else ever has - except his siblings (when they weren’t being annoying little shits). That smile makes John just want to trust them - so he does. When they start talking about the project and Peggy starts asking him questions he doesn’t calculate the risks or put on fifteen different masks to hide his vulnerability and neither does Peggy. Even though this is their first conversation the pair instantly get along and trust each other with information nobody else knows - like John’s very awkward first kiss or how Peggy tricked a woman into giving them her entire bowl of candy on halloween. They laugh when John brings up the pranks he played as a kid, then go quiet as he recalls the punishments. They bond in a way John hasn’t bonded with anyone - ever. For the first time in his life John lets himself cry, he lets himself cry when Peggy tells John about Eliza’s abusive ex-boyfriend, he cries when he talks about his mum. Everytime a tear falls he reminds himself ‘Men don’t cry Jack’ but everytime, Peggy puts a warming hand on his shoulder and tells him it’s okay to cry. It’s really comforting to finally have someone by his side. It makes him feel this strange sense of joy, the way he can be so open around them and they are the same around him; he feels underneath the sadness of the memories and the stories there is a feeling of elation and trust.

John learns a lot about Peggy: they are an Art major here on scholarship, their sisters are called Angelica and Eliza, they are the youngest of the siblings, they share their room with their siblings, they want to have a tattoo shop but their dad is against it. John feels closer to Peggy than he has with anyone for a long time and whenever they talk about their lives right now John always brings up his Safe Spot and everytime Peggy says how much they would like to go there, so one evening after class John takes them:

He has described it to them in the past given it feels like such an important place to him, after a few days of talking - and him gushing about his ‘safe spot’ everytime - Peggy convinces John to show them his safe spot. It’s only when they are walking towards the abandoned playground that he may have hyped it up a bit too much - it is just an abandoned kids play area after all. But seeing it again as they approached the rusting gate he is reminded of the calmness the simplicity of this place brings him. It’s the simplicity that makes him talk about it so much, makes him idolise the simple faded swing and wide tree trunk. Peggy looks at his face light up at the familiar squeak of the gate as they step through. They think about how in these first few weeks of college John has already formed such a close connection to this small patch of grass in New York. 

“I know it’s kinda simple,” John says, rubbing the back of his neck meekly. It’s the first time he feels embarrassed in front of Peggy because this place means so much to him. But that embarrassment is washed away when Peggy turns and beams at him:

“It’s beautiful.”

John sat down under the tree and Peggy the swing. Neither talk, both just enjoying the serenity and peace of the place they were sitting. They watch the sun set and make their way back to the dorms. The evening was very peaceful, they sat in silence but it didn’t feel like it - it felt like they were both just existing and respecting the composure of the space. The silence was comfortable.

When they get back to the dorms Peggy walks with John up to door No. 357. “You should probably leave, I don’t think that Alexander would like that I’m friends with you.” John sighs, leaning on the door-frame. Peggy looks at him in shock.

“Dude. I don’t give a shit about what Alex thinks. I don’t wanna stop hanging out with you cuz of his prejudices towards your asshole dad. If I wanna go into your dorm, Imma come into your dorm.” John thinks of how brave Peggy is and how he could never be the same.

“Yeah, okay.” John opens the door of his and Alex’s dorm and takes in a deep breath, preparing himself for Alex’s onslaught of screams and complaints that John is friends with Peggy. John clicks the door shut after Peggy and him walk into the room, Peggy goes and sits on John’s bed which elicits a reaction from Alex, who turns in his desk chair to look at Laurens’ bed. A wave of shock and anger passes over his face as he recognises the youngest Schuyler sibling.

“Peggy, what are you doing here?” He asks, clearly trying to mask his anger, for Peggy’s comfort.

“I was just out with John and we decided to come back here.” 

Alex shoots a judgmental glance at John and says, in a somewhat hushed tone, “Peggy, can I talk to you - alone,” he hisses. 

Peggy juts out a defiant jaw, “I’m sure whatever you’re about to say to me, you can say to John too.” 

“Fine. You can’t be friends with him. You can’t trust him-” Peggy interrupts him - something John would never dare to do:

“Have you actually talked to him? No, so how do you know all that.”

“I don’t need to have talked to him. He’s still his father’s son.”

“Would you like people to judge you on your father, I don’t think so. Now can you shut up so me and John can hang out.”

“I don’t want you getting hurt Pegs.”

“I can look after myself” Peggy gets up and glares at Alex and they stomp towards John in their yellow, leather Doc Martens, “C’mon we can go to my dorm.” John just nods and follows Peggy out the door, they walk towards the lifts which are currently crowded with drunk, party-go-ers. John grabs Peggy’s arm and pulls them away from the crowd towards the staircase. Peggy goes to say something then remembers John’s childhood and stays quiet. They make their way down the staircase to level 2 and walk into Peggy’s dorm. When they walk in the space is cramped as Laf is sat with a girl wearing blue jeans and a white cropped t-shirt on one of the beds.

“Mon ami, Peggy, hello. Who is your companion?”

“This,” Peggy steps forwards and reveals John, “Is John, he’s Alex’s roommate.”

“I am sorry for how I treated you John, I should not judge you upon your father’s beliefs.”

The girl Laf is sitting next to finally pipes up, “I’ve got to go help Angelica, I’ll talk to you later Pegs,” then she walks out of the room staring at John on her way out. At least she’s being polite in her distaste.

“Okay, John, I have an idea for my project.”

“Ooooh what project is this.” the Frenchman speaks again. Given Peggy is engulfed in their drawing John explains the premise of their project. He’s had a few ideas, he wants to incorporate the colour yellow, and their fun goofy side and their warm accepting smile alongside that side of them that is just so - forgive his language - badass. Laf and John make small conversation, John is surprised at Laf’s sudden change in character but is glad that he is welcoming towards him. 

“Done.” Their conversation is drawn to a close as Peggy swivels round in their chair and holds up an ink sketch. ‘It’s beautiful’ is all John thinks as he admires the realism of the drawing. The picture is of a face, the top quarter covered with a white mask with a completely black eyehole, the other rest is a cross-hatched face, the nose transforming into the twisting trunk of a tree, one of its branches leads into a closed eye, with a lonely tear falling from the tear duct. Hanging from the eye is a swing, with a small person sitting on it. The mouth is twisted into a smile. 

“Wow.” John states, unsure of what else to say, the drawing feels so personal to him, the tree looks exactly like the old oak he knows so well, “It’s perfect.” John almost feels like crying but doesn’t.

“This is supposed to represent our friend John, yes.” John had forgotten Laf was sitting right next to him until he speaks up, and suddenly he feels very vulnerable. Peggy just nods and gives a half-apologetic smile to John when Laf turns and grasps John around the shoulders and pulls him into a forceful hug. John is shocked by the forceful contact but melts into the hug. Laf lets go after what feels like years but is really just a few seconds when Peggy pipes up again.

“This is my concept but ideally I’d do a tattoo, I just need someone to give it to. It would be more simple though”

John stops thinking. He forgets that actions have consequences and that tattoos are strictly forbidden in the Laurens household. He’s only thinking about how much that drawing means right now, and how much he would like it on his skin, “You can give it to me.” Laf looks over at John suspiciously.

“Mon ami, what about your father.”

“I can cover it when I go home.” John should probably think a hell of a lot more about that but then Peggy turns around with another piece of paper in their hands. This one has three, much smaller, drawings on it. All three feature the mask and the tree, but the one John is most drawn to is at the bottom, it’s by far the simplest of the three. The drawing has the mask and the tree and the swing, and that’s it. It’s a perfect amalgamation of the original drawing. John loves it, “The bottom one, I want the bottom one.”

Laf still seems skeptical about the idea but at this point Peggy is just glad to have someone to tattoo and John is so wrapped up in the idea that he can’t stop to think about it. Peggy quickly draws up the idea properly and places the art on John’s skin, he looks down at it and it just feels right. Peggy begins tattooing over the blue ink already on his skin and is done within half an hour. Once they’re done John feels elated, then it hits him - he just got a fucking tattoo; a tattoo! Why did he think this was a good idea? His father is literally going to kill him.

“John, are you alright?” Laf places his fingertips on his forearm. 

“Yeah. I’m fine. It’s late, I should probably go.” John wants to go to the park but he wasn’t lying in his excuse to leave, it’s late and it’s dark and he can’t go there right now; no matter how much he wants to. So he just goes back to the dorm. He’s halfway up the stairs when Laf runs up next to him.

“Mon ami, why are leaving so quickly,” Laf is right up in John’s personal space - far too close for John’s comfort, “Peggy thinks it was their fault that you left so soon.”

“No. It’s not Peggy, I just,” John’s hyperventilating now and can’t get any words out between shaky breaths. He just needs Laf to take two steps back: give him some room to breathe. 

“Mon ami,” Laf takes a step forward rather than back; getting even closer to John. To combat this John takes a step back, his back now against the cold wall, “What is wrong,” Laf goes to touch John’s shoulder but John quickly moves out of the way and Laf finally gets the message, “You want me to step back, yes?” John’s breathing still hasn’t slowed though and now he slides down the chilling, marble wall, Laf does the same but on the other side of the stairs, several feet away from John: he has plenty of space to breathe so why can’t he. Laf continues talking but John can’t make out the words between his heaving breaths, he tries though, he tries to focus on the soothing french accent and the crisp wall on his back. Through this his ears manage to start working again and he can hear Laf singing softly, “Un deux trois quatre cinq six sept huit neuf,” He breathes according to Laf’s song. Eventually he calms down and his breathing evens but Laf keeps singing creating this calming atmosphere around the stairwell.

They sit there for what could be hours or minutes - neither man can tell. They drift into sleep while still sitting on the cold stairs and are only awoken when they hear the clicking of heels coming up the stairs accompanied by a voice they both recognise, “Why the fuck are you sleeping on the staircase,” John recognises the owner of that voice as Angelica, “Is there something wrong with your dorms?”

“No, mon amie, we just ended up here.” Laf says from where he is lying on the hard floor

“Sorry ma’am we can move.”

“It’s quite alright, you both look tired, now get back to your dorms,” she giggles at their state as both men sit up and groan - sleeping on the floor isn’t very good for you. 

“I apologise, mon amie.” John practically falls into Laf’s embrace as he gets up - he’s really tired from all the crying earlier - and Laf, even though he’s small, supports John’s weight and half carries him back to the dorm room.

They enter through the door and Alex looks up from where he’s working, “Laf, not you too.”

“Mon ami, we judged our dear friend Laurens too harshly, I have had a delicious -” John giggles and the other two men look at him before Laf continues, “Maybe not delicious, ah, chamant evening with him and Peggy.”

“You can’t just hang out with him,” Alex says, then hisses, “You know who his dad is and what he stands for. It’s too dangerous - especially for Peggy and you.”

“Mon ami, I am thankful for your protection, but I am alright, John has no intent to harm. Let him be.”

John is drifting off on Laf’s shoulder until Alex says, “Is that a tattoo, Laurens?”

“What?” John looks down at his arm, which is covered in clingfilm, “Yeah.” He’s too tired to think about consequences right now. He just wants to get into his uncomfortable college bed and go back to sleep.

“Laf, I still-”

“Can you have this conversation in the morning? I want to sleep.” John Laurens interrupts someone - he’s impolite - for once (and he doesn’t care at all).

“Fine.” Alex spins back around and continues typing away on his computer but keeps sneaking glances at Laf lowering Laurens onto his bed. John doesn’t mind though, he’s too tired to think about being the centre of attention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry I finished writing this at 1am so I didn't edit it that much so it's highly likely got many mistakes in it but I hope you liked it anyway :)
> 
> If you want I posted my drawings of what Peggy drew on my twitter: @mrc_1205 and my tiktok @louis.t.king.sh1t
> 
> I hope you enjoyed that. As I said this is my first fanfic so I apologise if the writing is bad. I don't know when the next chapter will be out given this fic is purely for self-indulgence, but I hope to have it done soon. 
> 
> Thanks for reading.


	3. Authors Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> AUTHORS NOTE

I'm really struggling with motivation for this. I have all the chapters planned out but I have to write them still. I have written chapter 3 but I just need to edit it, which I really don't want to do. I also need to do that with chapter 4. I'm really interested in where this story is going though (and I have altered my plans a bit) but I'm just not in the mood for writing a lot. 

Please tell me if you enjoy this story because I'm not sure if I'm going to keep going with it :(.

Hopefully I'll be more in the spirit in the coming weeks but for now, updates may be few and far between.


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I finally finished editing it!! Sorry *puts on serious face* John and Alex talk (wow).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some things to start:
> 
> there are no political motives behind this, but, it is a queer love story and I will have a bias however I will try not to let it show. Henry Laurens is a bad person in this AU because of what he does to his family and how he treats people - not because of his political beliefs.
> 
> Laf is a trans male (he/him) and Peggy is a non-binary person and uses they/them pronouns. I ask you to respect their pronouns in the comments.
> 
> most of these characters are queer but I can't be bothered to think of their exact sexualities right now but yeah - basically no-one is straight. Also Laurens is oblivious to his own not-straightness (i don't know how he's very gay but ANYWAY) 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this but it is my first fanfic so tell me if it's horrible.
> 
> Please comment what you think about this, it’s really helpful to see what people think!!
> 
> The long awaited Chapter 3 is finally here! You guys really helped to motivate me to edit this so this chapter is for all of you specifically. I hope you like it.

_ *a couple of weeks later* _

John sits at his desk working on his art project and is currently filling his sketchbook with sunflowers - fields of them, sketch upon sketch on the thick paper. The cream coloured pages are filled with bright yellows, dingy browns and earthy greens. He finds the constant motion of his freckled hands relaxing and enjoys how his thoughts wander to his two friends. In that moment he feels happy. Alex isn’t in the dorm and he’s engulfed with how the pen feels - smooth against his rough hands but rough against the smooth paper, how the paper feels cool under the palm of his left hand, how the music playing in his ears sounds, the room seems to be filled with joy.

Until the buzz. 

His phone buzzes against the hard, wooden desk - a news alert - John checks it quickly then puts his phone down and picks up his pen again. But as he gets back to the details of a bright yellow petal he processes what he just read. He drops his pen hastily and carefully picks up his phone to read once again:

**Henry Laurens’ New Law: What Will It Mean For Transgender People All Over America**

Just from the headline John could tell it would be bad: Henry Laurens plus a minority is never a good thing. John can’t believe it, he ignores the other news alert his father set on his phone which is undoubtedly an article singing his father's praises - John will have to suffer through that later but now he needs to know the facts and what his father’s new bill will mean for his friends. He thinks of them as he reads through the article, he thinks about how with each paragraph of this bill more and more rights get taken away from his two best friends - well only friends. The bill is exactly the kind of bill you would expect from a bigot like Henry claiming that so-called ‘transgenders’ don’t exist and that even if they say they do, people altering their bodies like that goes against both God and science. It restricts all name changing on the grounds of gender and all gender-confirmation surgeries would be banned. He dreads to think of what this would mean for his  _ friends _ : Peggy and Laf. He tries to stop his mind going down that path and focus instead on reading the news article but he can’t stop it. He pictures it:

Peggy and Laf are humiliated, unable to transition and having to be constantly misgendered by staff. Laf would have no access to his testosterone and neither could get surgeries to relieve their dysphoria. They would be trapped and it would be all John’s fault. John can see that this is not in anyway his fault and they would never blame him but he can’t help but believe it. Besides, the clouded panicked side of his brain speaks up, it doesn’t matter if it’s not your fault everyone will blame you  _ as they should _ . His brain is running away and he has no control of breathing anymore and a small voice in his head is telling him that he’s having a panic attack. This panic is only spurred by the thoughts of the paparazzi that will catch him between classes - they always find his siblings and him after Henry attempted to pass a new “controversial bill”. They’ll ask his opinion and they’ll swarm him, ask him questions, get so close he wouldn’t be able to breathe any more. He imagines it - the crowd of bodies pressed up against him, against his chest, against his lungs. His respiratory system seems to have booked the afternoon off because Laurens is struggling for breath and is working doubly hard for each shuddering breath. He ponders what would happen if the paps really did get onto campus would they follow John? What if they found his safe spot. 

What if they found out about Peggy and Laf.

If his dad finds out that John is friends with two openly trans people he can't imagine the punishment, but he can’t get himself to care about how this will affect him though. His mind choosing to focus instead on the real harm it will cause - to trans people all over America - just like the article said. John can’t wrap his head around why his father would do this - how he could have so much hatred in his body. Why did Henry Laurens think that he could take away tens of thousands of peoples rights - for something they can’t control. What did they do to deserve this - other than simply be themselves. Just thinking about all this leaves John’s face bright read and tears falling freely down his freckled cheeks accompanied by his heavy and laboured breathing. His thoughts race through his mind at a thousand miles per hour and John has no clue how to slow them down. He just runs alongside the images and accompany them through all the different scenarios of this fucking bill. With each passing second and tick of the clock sat calmly on John’s desk - an unaware antithesis of the boy sat at said desk - each breath John takes gets harder and harder, the more and more paparazzi crowd him with questions and crush his lungs.

***

For the first time since Alex arrived at Columbia - hell, since he arrived in the US - he’s calm. He’s having a really good day. All his work is done, all his essays are written and edited, his projects completed and he has only had one class today - his debate class. They had done a case study and he beat Thomas in a debate nobody thought he could win - which got him extra credit from the teacher and a very embarrassed and red-faced Thomas. That sight never stopped to make Alex anything less than elated. He’s with Herc and Laf in their dorm room - given the He-Devil Laurens resides in his quarters - spending time in their dorm means less time with Jack. The thought of John Laurens is not a pleasant one for Alex right now - it makes him worry about both Peggy and Laf. They both think that they’re ‘friends’ with Laurens but Alex doesn’t trust him one bit. He can’t rationalise it in his head - they’re both trans for God's sake - he could put them in danger and Alex doesn’t even want to think about that. Instead he focuses on the conversation of his two friends - they’re flirting yet again and Alex laughs at them - they really are the cutest couple. They chat until Alex’s phone rings out loudly in their ears, he recognises the alert immediately as the New York Post app - a new article. He digs his phone out of his pocket ignoring the complaints of his companions. He reads it again and again:

**Henry Laurens’ New Law: What Will It Mean For Transgender People All Over America**

He opens the article, mouth open in shock: Henry Laurens and his fucking son can’t seem to let Alex have a good day. He feels like there should be smoke coming out of his ears given how angry he is reading the several paragraphs of law and analysis. The paragraphs written by Laurens barely make sense and are basically just stuffed with bigotry and hatred that Alex can only feel towards a few people: the whole Laurens family being some of them. He can’t wait to see what John will think about this, Alex thinks, he cannot wait to let out all his emotions in one speech - maybe a couple essays. Alex just sits there reading; completely zoned out of the conversation he was previously partaking in until Laf speaks up - serious in his tone, “Mon ami, what are you looking at.” 

Alex looks up from the article on the small screen on his phone, his eyes filled with rage as he spits through gritted teeth, “Need to talk to Jack.” The nickname John first told him to call him slips from his tongue before he can rationalise the thought but his mind is too overcome with hatred to care. Laf and Herc look at each other: their gaze filled with confusion but they don’t say anything as Alex hastily stomps out of their dorm room and down the hall to his dorm where John sits at his desk- mid panic.

It’s the first thing he sees as he walks through the door and his eyes immediately lock onto his target. He sees the figure of John Laurens hunched over his desk which is covered in art supplies, this John is a sharp contrast from his father who stood tall and proud of his bill. However, Alex ignores all their differences and focuses on their similarities - the curve of his high cheekbones or the lump in the middle of his nose. His dark brown eyes have become overcome with watery tears and his breathing fills the small dorm room. The sight makes Alex feel sick - how dare John: a rich, cis, straight, privlidged man - be upset at this law, a law that will benefit him and his family if it passes. Is he upset that people may hate him- boohoo thinks Alex - he deserves the hate he’s going to get just for having that piece of shit as a father. Alex doesn’t think as he just lets all his rage out as he begins screaming at John - without a filter - it’s a mixture of French and English and absolutely foul language. He doesn’t think about how John’s tears could be genuine ones out of fear for his friends or about how he’s judging John on something he can’t change he just thinks of how much he hates Henry Laurens. He takes out that rage on his son; his son who has no control over the situation, his son who didn’t even know about the bill, his son whose only friends are trans, his son who hates his father. He screams and yells and paces and John sits there and takes the abuse through his wall of tears streaming down his red cheeks whose freckles have been hidden under the deep flush of colour adorning the beautiful face. He cries but never audibly - only flinches when Alex raises his voice or steps close to his desk. He actively shrinks in his chair when Alex begins flailing his arms and screaming as loudly as he can. Whenever this happens it just makes Alex more and more angry at that boy who sits, hunched in his small desk chair: how dare Laurens think this affects him it doesn’t Alex however, it hits him. His best friend and foster brother Lafayette gets hit directly by this as well as his childhood friend’s sibling. This doesn’t affect John - he’s just the asshole son of a bigot - or at least as far as Alex thinks that’s what John is. He just wishes that John would stop crying and actually argue.

Just as he thinks this his yelling abruptly stops as he thinks that he may have grossly misjudged this situation as well as his roommate. He realises, in the moment of quiet, that John has never defended his father and is an amazing friend to both Peggy and Laf: they were right. Alex thinks, as he looks down at John’s shaking figure, that maybe Jack does care about his friends, maybe Jack isn’t an asshole, maybe Alex has been the asshole all along. Maybe Jack is actually going through something right now.

Alex is completely quiet now but John is still sat, huddled and shaking in his desk chair. His dark brown eyes are blown out wide and full of fear, as well as glistening in the moonlight and from his tears which still fall freely down his face although there are no loud sobs, just tears. The sight makes Alex feel horrible - especially after he recognises the symptoms of a panic attack: he’s hardly breathing, his brow is covered in a thin coat of glistening sweat, his whole body is shaking and he looks really pale. He hates himself immediately - he just yelled at someone in extreme mental distress. He does the thing he would want anyone to do to him if the roles were reversed: he goes in to hug John. John actively flings himself away from Alex’s embrace and sits on the bed rather than at his desk. Alex, who suddenly feels very awkways, says,”Okay so no hung,” Alex’s voice is calmer but his throat is hoarse from his screams of anger earlier. He wrings his hands and fiddles with the ring his mother gave him on his index finger and looks down, “I- I’m so fucking-” he’s cut off as John flinches once again at the cuss, noting this action Alex lowers his voice even more, “I’m so sorry, John,” Alex stutters out - practically under his breath it’s that quiet. At this point he just wants John to calm down and for once not make things worse.

***

John quickly gets up from his quilted bed while Alex still stands awkwardly at his desk. John pulls his chair out and turns the page in his sketchbook, the bright yellow of sunflowers replaced by the blank cream of a new page. He picks up his pen with a shaking hand and starts drawing, at first Alex can’t tell what John is drawing but eventually it takes shape, the seemingly meaningless squiggles take the form of a large tree. The drawing seems to be helping John much more than Alex ever did but his breathing is still ragged and the only still part of his body is his hand that draws the tree. 

John’s brain is completely fogged; he has no control over the movements his body is making. He is hyper aware of Alex standing at the foot of his desk, while Alex is standing at least 3 feet away it still feels too close - Alex’s existence feels too close, if he could just leave the room, John might be able to breathe but instead he’s just stood there like a lemon at the end of his desk. John tells himself to ignore Alex: he’ll probably just start yelling again, he's not going to help: he doesn’t know how to help. No one knows how to help because no one can help. If he could just will his legs to get up and move to the location that his hand is so cleverly drawing on his paper, bringing that patch of grass to life right there in the dorm room. This place is really the only one - or thing - that can help. Probably because it’s so isolated, while sitting on that patch of green grass John can’t see anybody and nobody can see John. There’s so much air and so much space so that John can just do the one thing he can’t seem to do right now: breathe.

***

Alex’s mind tells him to help John but he can’t figure out how to help. His brain takes in the sight before him: John’s body shaking, his face covered in redness and tears. The sight makes him want to be sick because he knows that he caused it. He thinks back to earlier and cringes when he thinks about his loud yells and violent lunges forward. He considers John’s reactions - his flinching and cowering. He takes two steps away from John’s desk in the hopes of John calming down enough to talk. He’s unsure of how to do that but the silence filling the room is thick and awkward so he stumbles to fill it, “Hey,” he pauses unsure of what to say next, “I’m not sure how to help but I really want to. Is it okay if I sit on the bed.” John gives the smallest of nods and Alex walks over to sit on John’s navy and white duvet, “I should probably try to distract you,” normally Alex and his friends just discuss politics but he doesn’t think that would particularly benefit John right now. He has to wrack his brain for any idea for how to calm John down. The only thing he can think of is to just speak. He begins doing just that, describing the room as if he were writing it down.

He tries to keep his voice calm and measured as he talks. He doesn’t actually know if John is listening or if his voice is actually relaxing but it’s the best thing he can think of right now. All he really wants to do is to apologise to John - he would hate for anyone to judge him without actually trying to talk - he can’t believe what an asshole he was. Just looking at John right now he looks so different from the first time he saw John’s pretty face.:

_ He’s been living with the Washingtons for about a month but after a couple of bad foster homes it’s taken a long time to get settled in. But he loves all his foster siblings and he wants to get closer to his foster parents. Especially George Washington: his foster father. George was brought up almost the complete opposite to Alex; he’s always been privileged and had a large home and support from his family but both men have a shared love for politics - it is George’s job as a congressman. So, Alex decides to help George defeat his long-term political rival: Henry Laurens. He spends that night pouring over news articles all about the Laurenses. At first it was just Henry Laurens but as he got deeper and deeper he found out all about his family and by proxy his son. He delves into article after article covering Henry’s first marriage in 2001 to a Haitian woman, who Alex finds out had died in a car crash soon after their son was born - John. Attached to the article about her death is a small picture of Henry carrying a bundle of black blankets and curly hair, in the picture his head is held high and there aren't any signs of tears on his pale face. The caption says:  _ Henry Laurens and his son John Laurens at his wife’s funeral.  _ Three years later John got married to his current wife - Eleanor and they quickly had another child - a girl. After that they had 3 other children - Martha, Henry Jr, Mary and James. All of these children are the forefront of many of the pictures of the Laurenses, John is always hidden away behind the sea of blonde hair and blue eyes of his siblings.  _

Alex looks back up at John and sees how different he looks from that first time John saw him, all Alex saw then was another of the Laurens family, another asshole, another bigot, another Laurens. Looking now he looks anything but. His face isn’t cold and calculating like it was the day of his wife’s funeral, his eyes aren’t filled with hatred. John has similarities to his father but at this moment they fade into the background and all Alex can see is some random boy, a random boy who’s drawing. His paper is wet with dried tears but his drawing is still perfect. From what Alex can see that John is adding a pale red swing to the tree. His face is the same colour as the swing but his eyes are no longer leaking with salty tears and his hair is still pulled up into its usual ponytail, although there are some loose strands that frame his face perfectly.

***

John’s breathing goes back to normal and he can hear a calming voice filling the room. At first he can’t make out the words but eventually tunes in to find the voice describing the room he’s sat in. It pauses every-so-often to think about what to say next. The words are strung together eloquently. Gradually John’s mind unfogs and he begins to be more aware of his surroundings - mostly more aware of the voice and how that is Alexander Hamilton’s voice. John has been told his whole life that men should not cry - but if you feel so inclined you should do so in private. John abruptly jumps out of his chair, startling Hamilton who pauses his description. He sprints into the small bathroom attached to their dorm and sits in the bath. John thinks back to Alexander’s yelling earlier and immediately begins crying again. His breath quickens again and John looks down at his hands begging them to do anything other than shake uncontrollably. The sound of John’s breathing is quickly replaced by a sound on the other side of the locked door - a knock. John stays quiet and the knocking stops only to be replaced by Alex’s disembodied voice, “Hey, Jack, I’m really sorry about everything. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, I shouldn’t have been so quick to assume that you were just like your father. I’m just really sorry. I just want to help you I promise, I won’t yell at you again.” John stays silent but Alex can still hear the sobs coming from the other side of the thin, wooden door. “John, please just tell me how I can help,” Alex pleads with the crying boy.

“Do what you did before,” John chokes out between shaking breaths and loud sobs. Alex’s voice is calm and quiet and warm John thinks through the fog of anxiety that has formed in his brain. He hears a soft thud as Alex sits down but his voice doesn’t stop. 

John deeply inhales when Alex stops, “Hey,” Alex starts up again this time talking to John, “You alright?” He seems a lot less confident than he did before.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Look, I’m really sorry - about everything. I-” he pauses, evaluating his words, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. I was just - your father.”

“I know.” John’s voice is thick from the tears but Alex can tell there’s real meaning behind those two words.

“I just- he stands for everything I oppose, I assumed you were like him.”

John’s voice cracks, “You assumed wrong.” That makes Alex feel like absolute shit.

“I shouldn’t have assumed at all, I mean I would hate people to assume things about me before knowing.”

“Everyone thinks they know me, Alex, this kid Sam Seaburry. He keeps following me around like a lost puppy reading from a script.”

Alex laughs, grateful for the lighter topic, “Yeah I think I know him. He’s in my debate class. Very outspoken.”

“Oh yeah, he’s all like ‘ Heed not the rabble who scream revolution’ it’s like he thinks the system actually works and minorities aren’t actually oppressed.”

Alex pauses before replying timidly, “You don’t think that though, do you?”

John laughs, quietly but a laugh all the same, “Alex. I’m the son of an immigrant who can’t even pass as white who’s lived is South Carolina my whole life. I sort of don’t have the option to pretend the real world is perfect.” John sighs and pulls the door open, which makes Alex fall onto his back into the small tiled bathroom - he was clearly leaning against the door. As soon as his head hits the tile Alex bursts out laughing, which makes John also fall into hysterics. After a while they stop laughing and Alex restarts the conversation, “What’s it like?”

“What’s what like?” John replies, confused.

“What is it like growing up with that dick as a father? Like for your whole life. Mine walked out before I could know.”

John is shocked, even if he does agree that his father is - in Hamilton’s words - a dick but Alex is so outright about it. He lets out an awkward chuckle, “I don’t know. I wouldn’t have anything to compare it to besides he’s horrible but he’s also my dad.”

Now it was Alex’s turn to let out an awkward laugh, “I know but, I’m just curious I guess; I’ve spent most of my time here hearing stories about him from George.”

“George, as in George Washington,” John is shocked, “That’s how I recognise you,” John mutters with his mouth agape in realisation.

Alex replies quickly, “Yeah, he fostered me 2 years ago,” John just stares before Alex asks, “What’s wrong?” John quickly shakes his head. He gets up from where they were sitting, side-by-side. Alex is unsure of what to do so he just sits there and lets John walk calmly out of the room. Once John is out of the room Alex thinks over the conversation - he can’t think of what he did wrong. He knows he was nosy about John’s dad but John didn’t seem freaked out by that, he seemed more freaked out about the fact Washington is his foster-father. Alex wracks his brain but can’t think why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say something about Laurens' Law. I tried to make it as extreme as possible and I hope if you're reading this you see how messed up it is. I hope that this kind of law never gets passed.
> 
> Seriously, I want to thank all of you who commented on my last chapter, you really helped me get through my boredom so I really hope you like it!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed that. As I said this is my first fanfic so I apologise if the writing is bad. I don't know when the next chapter will be out given this fic is purely for self-indulgence, but I hope to have it done soon. 
> 
> Thanks for reading.


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fallout from last chapter basically. John talks to Angelica and she proposes an idea John just can't turn down.
> 
> Alex rants to Laf and Herc (he definatley doesn't like John) *wink wink*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? Me posting?? Wow, I am SHOCKED.
> 
> I hope you like this chapter I've been working on it for a really long time and tried really hard to get it out tonight! Hope you enjoy!!!!
> 
> some things to start:
> 
> there are no political motives behind this, but, it is a queer love story and I will have a bias however I will try not to let it show. Henry Laurens is a bad person in this AU because of what he does to his family and how he treats people - not because of his political beliefs.
> 
> Laf is a trans male (he/him) and Peggy is a non-binary person and uses they/them pronouns. I ask you to respect their pronouns in the comments.
> 
> most of these characters are queer but I can't be bothered to think of their exact sexualities right now but yeah - basically no-one is straight. Also Laurens is oblivious to his own not-straightness (i don't know how he's very gay but ANYWAY) 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this but it is my first fanfic so tell me if it's horrible.
> 
> Please comment what you think about this, it’s really helpful to see what people think!!

**Chapter 4**

John tries to act as calm as possible as he walks out of the shared dorm room but his mind is racing. Once he walks out of the small door frame he lets his thoughts manifest as actions: his breathing begins to quicken for what feels like the 100th time this evening. John starts to feel even worse when he remembers he’s in a hallway - a place where any random college student could walk by and see him, so he breathes it all in. He feels in his pocket for his phone with his clammy hand but is shocked to find nothing. He takes another sharp breath. Of course - just his luck that he would leave his phone on his desk in the dorm with Alex, who he just ran out on. Why did he run? He questions himself then remembers Alex’s father and he begins walking. He tries to act cool as he makes his way to the staircase but his right hand is cramped as if it were holding a pen and John can’t do anything to move it. As he’s walking down the stairs John looks out the small window and is greeted by the inky black of the night sky. Shit he thinks, wondering what time it actually is.

John knows that walking late at night in New York without a phone is a bad idea so quickly turns on his heel and begins ascending the staircase. Quickly deciding to go to the student lounge on the 5th floor. It gives him plenty of time to calm his breathing as he walks up the small, empty staircase. He reaches the 5th floor and anxiously looks around the plush hallway. He sees that nobody is there and lets out a shuddering breath of relief. He walks quickly along the carpeted floors into the small student lounge. 

He looks around the room and is bitterly disappointed; the room is mostly blank with just a plastic looking couch and a few empty desks. There is nothing in the room that would have occupied John’s shaking hands. John elected to instead just sit on the horrid couch, it sinks under his weight but the comfort of the pillows calms his shaking breath. He looks around the room and glances at the clock on the wall. He focuses on it through the few tears that have built in his eyes, and is shocked that it is 3am - it certainly doesn’t feel like it. He lets the solitude wash over him and breathes, he lets it all out. His isolation is broken by another person walking into the cramped room.

The woman sits next to him on the sofa and John leans into her, thinking of his mum back in South Carolina and how she would hug him tight when he felt anxious or after his dad would hit him. The woman speaks and John is brought out of his nostalgic, home-sick haze and bolts out of Angelica’s grasp. “What’s wrong John,” her voice is soft, calm and steady but laced with worry

John’s words get caught in his throat along with his breath. Breathing becomes more and more difficult for John as Angelica places her warm hand on top of his knee, which has begun to bounce up and down wildly. This is the exact opposite of what John actually wants to be happening but his body has decided to stop listening to his brain so he has no way to communicate this to Angelica. He just has to sit there: frozen.

“John, talk to me please. I want to help you but I need you to talk to me and I need you to trust me.”

John tries not to cry. He holds in a loud sob. He exhales a shaky breath. Then thinks about what he ought to do - step one - he thinks is to move away from Angelica’s touch. He focuses all his attention on doing that, begging his legs to work. They decide to finally listen to his restless brain and he falls, rather unceremoniously, from the sofa onto the carpet. This position is much less comfortable but he immediately feels better with the space between Angelica and his shaking body: he can’t feel her, she isn’t right there pressing against his side - he has room to breathe. Although his breathing is rugged and laboured John is just glad that his lungs have resolved to work again. John sits for a few minutes, then, in a moment of Herculaneum strength, John mutters two words: “I’m fine.”

“John,” Angelica is apprehensive and thinks carefully through her next words, “Just breathe John.”

John wants to laugh, tell her ‘Wow, just breathe - hadn’t thought of that!’ but his shortness of breath and strict childhood prevent him from doing that so instead he just tries to do as she says. While doing this he thinks about how she calls him John: not Jack or Laurens. John. His mum called him John but the rest of his family call him Jack (or Jacky) and all his “friends” call him Laurens. He likes John though he thinks, it has a nice ring to it. This rabbithole of thoughts seems to refocus his brain on breathing calmly. His mind still seems full of thoughts racing around but it’s more controllable now. Like he could actually talk to Angelica. He sighs quietly, thinking of his mother.

“Are you okay?” John gives a silent nod, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I-” John isn’t sure what to say - he’s always been bad with his words and has always berated for it from his father, “I thought that when I came to college,” he releases a shuddering breath, “I would be free but he’s followed me here and- I hate it and I hate him.”

“Who?”   
  
“My dad.” His tears have subsided leaving John with just a painful headache to remember them by.

“Don’t let him follow you, then. Stop being defined by him. You are your own person, whether you’re in college or wherever your dad is."

“How? I mean he picked all my classes and I’m pretty sure everyone here who isn’t a piece of shit hates his guts, which means they hate me.”

“Peggy doesn’t hate you and Laf doesn’t hate you, what about them?”

“They were the only people who have been nice to me but, both of them approached me.”

“Why don’t you ask them to introduce them to their friends, like Alex or Herc or - what’s his name? - Burr.” Angelica snaps her fingers as she remembers Burr’s name.

John sighs and explains how they all hate him and will just hate him more after his father’s stupid bill. He explains his life story, like how he did to Peggy in their first few weeks of knowing one another. The Schuylers have that effect on John, he couldn’t think of telling any of this to Laf or Alexander. He finds it very hard to trust men for some reason but he could tell the Schuylers anything. He doesn’t even mind when Angelica occasionally asks a personal question. When he’s finished they sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes until Angelica speaks up, “I think you need to try and stop depending on your father, like becoming financially stable so you can distance yourself from him,” Angelica really sounds like she knows what she’s talking about, John thinks.

“I don’t know how to even start that. My dad pays for everything including this fucking school,” John would never normally swear in front of a lady - he knows its impolite - but he doesn’t really think that Angelica will mind.

“Well, you would need a job, my dad owns this café a few blocks from here, Eliza’s the manager. I’m sure you can work there until you’ve saved up enough to do your own college thing.”

“Really? You’re offering me a job?”

“Well, from what I’ve seen you’re working really hard for a degree in a major you didn’t even choose, I think you can handle working in a small coffee shop.”

“I don’t even want to think about my major right now.” John groans.

“You know,” Angelica pauses, “If you want to do art, there’s a full scholarship that they offer every semester - Pegs is on that programme. You can apply even if you’re already here. You can apply even if you’re already here. You should do it - Pegs is always talking about how good at art you are.”

John laughs uncomfortably, “I don’t think I’m good enough for a scholarship.”

“Well there’s no harm in trying, also,” she gives him a pained stare, which quickly turns into a cheeky grin, “Go back to your dorm.” 

Both she and John laugh and John rises from his place on the floor, “Thank you,” he says it so quietly he isn’t sure Angelica actually heard him but she just nods at him and gives him a small slip of paper with the address of the coffee shop on it.

“It’s no problem, we needed another barista anyway. Come in tomorrow at 9am okay.” He nods before turning out the door and going back to his dorm, he suddenly feels very tired. He arrives at the door and resolves himself to apologise to Alex, he doesn’t think he would want to explain  _ everything  _ to Alex yet but he can still say he’s sorry. But that thought is abandoned when he walks into the room to find it abandoned - he guesses that his little freak-out scared Hamilton out of the room for the night. John just gets into bed and thinks about tomorrow - he’ll apologise to Hamilton (and hopefully vice versa) and he’ll start work at the coffee shop. He’s looking forward to it

***

John isn’t wrong, as soon as John walks out of the small dorm room Alex wracks his brain as to what he did wrong. John seemed fine, he was opening up. He gets up off the floor and walks out of the dorm room, with the thought to rant in his mind - how could John just walk out on him, they were having a  _ conversation, talking. _ He barges into Herc and Laf’s shared dorm using the spare key they gave him at the beginning of the semester. Alex turns on the big overhead light as he walks in and sits down on the empty bed that the couple never use. The bright light woke the two men up, “What the fuck do you want Hamilton,” Herc says - it sounds like he’s trying ot be intimidating but he is too tired and Hamilton knows him too well for the voice to actually be scary, “It’s 3 in the morning.”

Hamilton takes this as a chance to burst into the entire ‘story of tonight’ as he calls it, all about the bill and John and all his feelings. As the tale progresses the two men lying opposite Hamilton become more and more awake and invested in the story. Alex pauses to take a breath and Laf takes it as an opportunity to interject, “Alex, you come in here,” his french accent makes the ‘h’ at the beginning of the word redundant, “To tell us about our dear Laurens, I must say, I told you so.” Herc giggles and Alex sighs.

“Whatever, yes. Laurens may not be his father but this is a time of crisis not a time to mock me,” He dramatically falls back onto the mattress, “What did I do wrong.”

“Does someone have a crush,” the frenchman says in a singsong voice.

“No.” Alex replies - of course he doesn’t have a crush on Laurens. He can think someone is cute and beautiful and hot -  _ objectively _ without liking them.

“Dude,” Herc sounds exasperated, “Washington is his dad’s worst enemy.”

“Fuuuuuck, I’m an idiot.”

“Yes, Alexander, you are.”

“Laf I swear to fucking God-”

“Can you go now? I'd like to sleep,” Herc grumbles as his grip on Laf’s waist tightens and his head falls back onto the pillow. 

Laf’s body follows Herc’s but Alex remains where he is as he says, “I can’t go back there, what if it happens again? I don’t wanna make him upset.” Herc grumbles against his pillow, something like ‘turn the fucking light off and shut up if you wanna stay.’ Alex does what he says as he gets into the empty bed. His thoughts drift to John as he falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes Alex is an idiot and he is going to avoid Laurens because he just is stupid okay. Don't get mad at me, blame his dumbass. I'll try to get the next part up soon but I'm going to my grandma's with no internet from thursday 'til sunday so I won't be able to upload unless I write and edit chapter 5 really quickly. I'll do my best and I hope you enjoy the direction I'm taking this story.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed that. As I said this is my first fanfic so I apologise if the writing is bad. I don't know when the next chapter will be out given this fic is purely for self-indulgence, but I hope to have it done soon. 
> 
> Thanks for reading.


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's this? Me posting two days in a row? Who is she?
> 
> John's first day at the coffee shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I shocked myself with how quickly I wrote and edited this but I'm quite proud of it. Hope you like it as much as me!!
> 
> also: tw transphobia
> 
> some things to start:
> 
> there are no political motives behind this, but, it is a queer love story and I will have a bias however I will try not to let it show. Henry Laurens is a bad person in this AU because of what he does to his family and how he treats people - not because of his political beliefs.
> 
> Laf is a trans male (he/him) and Peggy is a non-binary person and uses they/them pronouns. I ask you to respect their pronouns in the comments.
> 
> most of these characters are queer but I can't be bothered to think of their exact sexualities right now but yeah - basically no-one is straight. Also Laurens is oblivious to his own not-straightness (i don't know how he's very gay but ANYWAY).
> 
> I hope you enjoy this but it is my first fanfic so tell me if it's horrible.
> 
> Please comment what you think about this, it’s really helpful to see what people think!!

**Chapter 5**

Alex wakes up disoriented in Herc and Laf’s room. Once he gains his bearings he quickly checks his phone and realises it’s almost 8:45 - he’s going to be late for his shift at the coffee shop. He gets up without waking the sleeping couple and runs to his dorm room. He gets into the room and is relieved to find Laurens isn’t in there - he must have a class. He quickly gets changed and sprints the couple of blocks to the coffee shop. 

“Sorry I’m late ‘Liza,” he says as he walks through the door of The Schuyler Coffee House. He spots Eliza, his manager, looking pretty as usual in a flowing blue dress underneath her white apron. Next to her - in a matching apron - is the last person Alex wants to see right now: John Laurens. He does not want to talk to him right now, he doesn’t want to stress John out or get him in trouble with his dad - Henry Laurens doesn’t seem like the kind of dad to let things like being friends with your enemy’s son slide, “Well I should get to work,” he says awkwardly. He quickly begins taking orders at the till as John is delivering food at the tables scattered around the small café.

They work like that for a while; Alex avoiding John like a fever and John trying to talk to Alex. They’re just about to switch over, so John can practice taking and making orders when Alexander’s arch-enemy Thomas Jefferson walks in. Everything Thomas does gets on Alex’s nerves: he constantly plays ‘the devil’s advocate’, which is really just saying a bad opinion without having to take blame for it.

“What would you like, Thomas?” he asks in the most sickly, sweet voice he can muster.

“Oh Alexander,” he wrinkles his nose at Alex, “Whose job did you steal this time?”

John looks up from the table he’s waiting momentarily before Alex strikes back, “I didn’t steal anyone’s job, Thomas, unless you want it - in which case by all means lead the way. I’d like to see you try to make a coffee as good as me.”

“I don’t need to work at some second-class coffee shop. Now get me a caramel macchiato with a double shot of espresso and 5 pumps of soy milk,” Alex scoffs but begins making the order anyway before handing it to Thomas, who sits at a small table at the window.

Five minutes later and Thomas is working at his table, Alexander is waiting on those who are eating breakfast, while staring angrily at Thomas. John’s at the counter taking and making orders: he’s actually really good at the job, he’s very good at listening and quickly picked up all the ways to make drinks that Eliza taught him and nobody has complained so far: his southern manners and charm definitely help that. Although, currently he’s at the counter hunched over his sketchbook, his hand moving rapidly across the page.

“Mon ami, John, I did not know you worked here.” Laf walks in wearing one of Herc’s big jumpers, skinny jeans and bright blue, shimmery eye make-up that stands out against his dark skin. John looks up and closes the sketchbook quickly.

“It’s my first day.” John smiles at his friend warmly, “What do you want buddy.” Laf rattles off his order and as he’s waiting for John to make it at the counter Thomas goes over to talk to him.

“Mary!” Laf doesn’t respond so Thomas taps his shoulder, “Mary?”

Laf turns around hesitantly,“Oh, it is Laf now,” Laf says confidently.

“Oh like a nickname?” Thomas looks confused.

“No. I am trans.” Laf says it proudly but Thomas’s face falls into a hateful, downtrodden look.

“No you aren’t Mary - you’re wearing make-up. You’re a girl.” He says it like it’s a fact (which it isn’t) and Laf’s proud stance and confident stare fall as his breathing speeds up. He can’t formulate a response but he doesn’t have to because John steps in: something Alex never thought he would do.

“Hey, Laf is more of a man than you. He's not a girl just cause he wears make-up.”

“Nobody cares what you think,” he looks distastefully at John - muttering something under his breath (probably about John’s skintone.)

“Hey, I’m going to have to ask you to leave, this is a safe space for all people and you are making it unsafe,” John points towards the sign covered in rainbows saying ‘safe space for all’ near the door, “Please leave.”

“You can’t do that,you are making this space unsafe for me. I want to talk to your manager.” 

Just at that moment Eliza walks out of the backroom and says,“I’ll take this, John, you look after Laf.” 

John nods and makes his way towards Laf, who is now sitting at a table. Alex is frozen in shock, watching John talk Laf down. His voice is calm, patient, reassuring and quiet. He hears Laf’s voice over the general rumble of the coffee shop, “I am fine mon ami,” his voice is shaking and his breaths in between the words are rough, “That has not happened recently, it took me by surprise,” John doesn’t leave Laf’s side and continues to comfort him even after Laf’s several reassurances that he is fine. Eliza makes Thomas leave (saying something about reporting him to the dean) then she works the till, keeping an eye on John and Laf while doing so. Alex just keeps smiling at the scene: John is so nice, he realises. John is basically the perfect human: beautiful inside and out - he cringes at that thought no matter how true it is. The thought actually makes him sad because John is this angel and he’ll never want to be Alex’s friend - or more - Alex is basically the devil in comparison to John. 

Wait, Alex’s train of thought stops - he does  _ not _ want to be more than friends with John, he just wants to be amicable with his roommate and to have a partner as kind as John would be awesome. But there was no use hoping because John is straight and even if he isn’t he wouldn’t want to date Alexander anyway because Alex is impolite, brash, he talks too much and is abrasive nothing compared to John’s calm mannerisms and polite words.

Laf finally calms down enough for John to get back to work as Alex’s shift ends, “Hey, Alex I know that your shift is finished so can you take Laf back to the dorms: he still seems pretty shaky.” Eliza asks Alex as he takes off his apron.

“Sure,” Alex nods and walks over to where Laf is sitting, “Hey, Laf, let's go back to the dorm. Yeah?” He tries his best to sound comforting but it comes out a bit patronizingly.

“Do you not have to work?” Laf responds.

“No, my shift just ended. C’mon, man,” he picks up Laf’s bag and coffee for him, “Let’s go.”

“Thank you, mon ami.”

They walk out into the fresh autumn air and Alex strikes up conversation with the other man, “John seems really nice.”

“I told you, mon ami,” Laf says with a laugh.

“Yeah, yeah,” Alex frowns.

“Why are you so sad Alexander?” Laf looks at Alex inquisitively.

“I wanna be his friend but he’s never gonna wanna be my friend. He’s like fucking perfect - he probably thinks I’m the biggest, most horrible person ever, Laf. I fucking yelled at him,” he looks directly into Laf’s eyes, “While he was having a panic attack, Laf. Fuck. Laf stop laughing - this isn’t funny.”

“I think you have a crush, Alexander.”

“No, I do not.” Alex shakes his head aggressively. 

“I disagree, mais if you wish to be a friend to John (or more), you must talk to him - apologise to him Alexander.”

“I can’t though, he must think I’m the biggest dick in this whole universe and he’s literally perfect. He would never accept my apology - he should never accept my apology.”

“Are you sure this is not a crush, mon ami.”

“I don’t like Laurens,” he says definitely. At this point they’re at the dorms and it’s almost 9:30, “I have to go to class.”

“Au revoir mon ami,” Laf waves as Alex retreats onto campus.

***

As Alex is walking back to the dorms after his class he regrets not paying more attention to John during his first month at college. If he did he would be more efficient at avoiding him. He just hopes John isn’t in the dorm - he doesn’t think he should be, he thinks he has a class.

“Hey,” he was wrong - John is in the dorm working at his desk. He half thinks about turning around and walking back out, “I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”

“Okay,” Alex’s hands are fidgeting.

John notices Alex looks askance but he ploughs on anyway: “Thanks, for you know, calming me down last night. I’m sorry I walked out, I just. I’m not used to talking about my dad and stuff,” he stops himself from saying with men, “And then you mentioned Washington and so I just left. I didn’t know what else to do you know,” He looks down at his hands, still on the keyboard of his fancy computer.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry too - I shouldn’t have yelled at you and I shouldn’t have been so nosey. I’m really sorry. I just get so curious.”

“It’s okay, I should probably get better about talking about it,” John turns back to his computer and his face scrunches in confusion before his hands resume typing slowly.

Alex seizes his opportunity - he is not throwing away his shot at being John’s friend, “Do you want to, maybe, come to the café this afternoon, me and my friends always have a study group there every Wednesday at 4.” John looks apprehensive so Alex adds, “Pegs and Laf will be there.”

John’s face immediately lights up as he agrees, “Okay, but,” Alex gets worried at this ultimatum, “You have to help me with this essay, I’ve heard you’re good at politics.”

“Sure, I’d love to help you.” Alex says with a sigh, “Though you were gonna say I had to kill someone or something like that.”

“I thought we got over the part where you thought I was a horrible person,” they both laugh, “I have to go to class but thanks for inviting me.” As John leaves Alex immediately gets done with all his work so he can focus on John during the study group - so they can become friends. He does NOT have a crush.

Alex walks into the small coffee shop at exactly 4pm and sees all his friends sitting at one of the big tables: Laf, Angelica, Eliza, Peggy, Herc and Aaron are all sitting with drinks and schoolwork is scattered across the large surface. John walks in shortly after Alex apologising relentlessly about being late as he sits down. When John sits down Peggy introduces him to the group. 

“How about we talk less and work more,” Aaron suggests after John and Alex get their drinks and the group laugh at his over-used catchphrase.

***

Laf keeps looking up from his essay on the use of set design in theater to see John and Alex hunched over John’s laptop - both of them take it in turns to type while the other stares at the one typing. They are so oblivious, Laf thinks, why do they not just begin dating like him and Hercules. They were both very obvious about their crush during high school and got together at the beginning of senior year. Now they both go to the same college and even live in the same dorm. They ought to do the same, thinks Laf.

Peggy clearly senses their tension too and shares a knowing look with Laf. “John how’s your art project going?” Pegs asks.

“Oh, it’s fine. I have my sketchbook if you wanna see,” John answers quietly. Peggy nods and John hands them a battered, old sketchbook. Peggy flips through it and shows one of the pages to Laf and Herc, which is when John’s face suddenly changes from it’s warm smile to closed-off boredom, “Those are just some ideas though,” he says, eyeing Laf and Herc nervously.

“These are amazing, John,” Hercules says, taking hold of the sketchbook and passing it to the Schuyler sisters. John seems to relax once the sketchbook is in the hands of Angelica and Eliza but tenses again as it is passed to Aaron and really relieved when it makes its way back to him.

“So, I was thinking about building on the idea I had last month,” Peggy rambles, “And can you take me back to that place. I need to draw it.”

John’s face is flushed red, “Sure,” he says quietly. He stares into space until his attention is drawn back into his essay by Alex saying something about the way the Senate works. Pegs then turns back to their homework and gives up on trying to talk to John.

Several coffees later and the gang are making their way back to the dorms; Laf and John are walking alone at the back. Nobody else can hear as their conversation drifts to Alex: “He’s super nice, Laf, and he’s so smart. Did you notice he didn’t even do any of his work he just helped me. God, he probably thinks I’m so dumb he basically rewrote my whole essay. But he didn’t seem like he cared and he kept like - flirting with me? I don’t know. It was nice though, I didn’t mind.” John frowns.

“So you like Alexander, what is wrong?”

“What,” John splutters, “I don’t like Alex - I’m straight. Yeah, I’m straight,” he adds quietly, convincing himself more than Laf. He thinks about his high school girlfriend: Martha . He thought about when he held her hand walking down the halls or kissing her ‘goodbye’ before class. He was perfectly content in those kisses, he didn’t think about a guy when they were kissing - he just thought that her lips were soft and tasted like cherries. 

“It is okay to question that John.”

“No, it doesn't matter anyway - there’s no point.”

“What are you talking about? Me, Hercules, Alexander, Peggy, Eliza we have all questioned and that mattered - look at us now. We are happy in who we are. Happier than before.”

“I know but-” he’s staring at Alex, who’s walking up ahead talking passionately to Herc, “I’m not allowed to question. I can’t.”

“Of course you are allowed: do not be an idiot goose,” John can’t even laugh at Laf’s inaccuracy, which makes Laf worry even more, “Talk to me John.”

John wants to but his intuition is telling him not to: Lafayette could be just like his dad. Sure, he’s shorter and he doesn’t have the same muscle mass and John could easily take him but he still seems really capable of being able to beat John into a pulp.

“John,” John’s brought out of his thoughts by Peggy joining them, “You alright?” John looks up from where he’s been staring at Laf to see everyone staring at him.

“Yeah, Pegs I’m fine.” His tone is clipped and short.

“How about you take me to that place and the others can go back to the dorms,” Peggy can see John’s discomfort with the group setting.

“Yeah,” he sounds relieved, “Yeah let’s go.”

They start walking the opposite direction in silence until Peggy speaks, “I know that you’re not fine; do you want to talk about it?”

“Can we wait?” John’s eyes are cast down at the pavement and he’s lost in his thoughts - mostly about Martha. They broke up when John came to New York. John wasn’t upset even though she was distraught, he just couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Sure,” Peggy puts a comforting hand on John’s shoulder, “We can talk whenever you want to.” 

They arrive and Peggy leads John through the creaky gate. They sit down side by side under the tree, looking up at the setting sun over the surrounding skyscrapers. Peggy looks at John expectantly and he explains the whole situation to them - it sounds stupid as it comes out of his mouth. He sighs and Peggy steps in, “But it’s okay to question your sexuality and your gender - you know that right?”

“No. I can’t.” His southern accent comes out alongside his emotions making it sound like ‘ _ I cain’t’ _ .

“I don’t get why not. There’s nothing wrong with questioning - you don’t have to find a label if you don’t want to but I agree with Laf. It does kind of sound like you have a crush on Alex.”

John swallows, “If I let my mind go there, then I might let my body go there and then,” his eyes are welling up with tears but he pushes them closed and wills away the feelings, “If my dad found out he would,” he shuddered thinking about it, “disown me or kill me.” His voice is gravely and tells Peggy he isn’t joking.

“Oh.” They aren’t sure what else to say.

“It’s getting late, we should get back to the dorms,” he gets up and offers them a hand. They get up and walk back to the dorms in silence. 

This means John is left alone with his thoughts for the whole walk across the city. He thinks about his dad. He thinks about his punishments and wrong doings: talking out of turn, interrupting his father, talking in Haitian Creole after his mother died, growing his hair out. All of these were met with beatings and yelling. He doesn’t even want to think about what would happen if he got a boyfriend or if he was gay -  **which he isn’t** \- he convinces himself. But then there’s Alex with his sharp, passionate, brown eyes and his sharp cheekbones and his sleek, elegant hair and that makes him want to go there, makes him want to question. Everytime he talks John’s eyes are drawn to his lips and he has to stop himself from thinking about kissing them. But this hasn’t happened before - it’s all Alex. John needs to stop these thoughts and the best way he can think to do that is to stop being with Alex. Alex makes him think these things, feel these things so he needs to avoid Alex so he can stop. He needs to stop. Stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to yell at them - they are sooo oblivious. I honestly don't know how they can be this dumb (I thought Alex was smart?) but they are, don't ask how. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed that. As I said this is my first fanfic so I apologise if the writing is bad. I don't know when the next chapter will be out given this fic is purely for self-indulgence, but I hope to have it done soon. 
> 
> Thanks for reading.


	7. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John goes with Alex and Laf to Mt. Vernon for the Thanksgiving break. When he returns he has an emotional conversation with Peggy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not american! You can probably tell from this chapter, in England we don't celebrate thanksgiving so I did it more as just a weekend off rather than a big thing. Sorry if this isn't accurate :(
> 
> some things to start:
> 
> there are no political motives behind this, but, it is a queer love story and I will have a bias however I will try not to let it show. Henry Laurens is a bad person in this AU because of what he does to his family and how he treats people - not because of his political beliefs.
> 
> Laf is a trans male (he/him) and Peggy is a non-binary person and uses they/them pronouns. I ask you to respect their pronouns in the comments.
> 
> most of these characters are queer but I can't be bothered to think of their exact sexualities right now but yeah - basically no-one is straight. Also Laurens is oblivious to his own not-straightness (i don't know how he's very gay but ANYWAY).
> 
> I hope you enjoy this but it is my first fanfic so tell me if it's horrible.
> 
> Please comment what you think about this, it’s really helpful to see what people think!!

**Chapter 6**

John realises pretty quickly that avoiding Alexander is impossible and his efforts are made even more difficult by Alex’s growing need to be with John. It also didn’t help that they lived together and Alex is always awake. 

Peggy and Laf hate it because they’re stuck in the middle and know everything these oblivious idiots don’t. However, they are, of course, sworn to secrecy by each oblivious idiot. This means a lot of awkward study groups to which John is invited and a lot of Alex rewriting John’s politics essays just as an excuse to sit next to him. 

John can’t count the sleepless nights he’s spent thinking of Alexander; and then telling himself not to think about Alexander, which leads to thinking about his dad; and then telling himself not to think about his dad. That constant stream of thoughts to process and emotions to cover doesn’t leave much time to sleep and John doesn’t have Alex’s caffeine addiction to fuel his late nights and it’s starting to catch up with him.

Samuel Seabury and Charles Lee are also on John’s ‘avoid these people’ list alongside Thomas Jefferson (because John knows he will punch Thomas if he sees him and doesn’t really want to leave Columbia because of some bigot.) Seabury and Lee are on there because whenever they see John they take to him like clothes on skin after getting wet. They follow him around and John is getting really tired of their endless, scripted, bigoted nonsense. And of course, as if avoiding people wasn’t enough, John also has college lectures and tutorials and homework and of course his job at the Coffee House, which is where he’s going now. He’s flanked by Lee and Seabury and just can’t shake them. They’re close approaching the Coffee House and Lee says, “Why are we coming here John? This is the Schuylers’ Coffee House. One of the sisters says she’s ‘non-binary’,” he uses his hands to make quotation marks around ‘non-binary’. Lee and Seabury snicker and John loses it.

“Fuck off, Lee.”

“Pardon me?”

“I said ‘fuck off, Lee’ Peggy is non-binary and I’m here because I fucking work here - not everybody relies on daddy’s money for everything so,” he repeats himself, “Fuck off, Lee.”

Lee goes to say something but John quickly shuts him up, “What about that don’t you get?” he towers over the shorter man, “Fuck off, with your pal,” he points to where Seabury is hesitantly leaving. Lee turns and joins his best friend.

John doesn’t think of the interaction at all for the rest of the day, his shift goes smoothly, he gets back to the dorm right as Alex is leaving and he has plenty of time to finish his stupid PolSci essay for Alex to help him with next study group. It’s all going great, until his father calls.

Henry Laurens does not call his son. He believes in ‘indepence son, it’s what we fought against the british for, it’s what the confederates,’ in John’s mind he can picture Henry pointing up at the hideous confederate flag in their entrance foyer, ‘fought for in the civil war and something you have to learn Jack.’ The incoming call flashing on his laptop screen scares John mostly because he has no idea why his father would call.

“Hello, Jack,” His tone is clipped, annoyed and straight to the point.

“Hi dad.” John’s sure to keep his face emotionless, anxious to be on his best behaviour for his father. Punishments were a necessity but he still did not like them.

“A man named John Lee talked to me today, his son goes to Columbia too.”

“Oh,” John feigns interest, “What’s his name?”   
  
“Charles.”

Shit. Charles Lee, whom he had told to fuck off several times that afternoon, “Oh.”

“Yeah, you know him?”

“Vaguely,” John keeps his head down.

His father’s voice echoes loudly over the tinny computer speakers, “Look at me when I’m talking to you Jack, did I teach you no manners.”

“Pa gen aktyèlman ou pa t’,” John whispered under his breath, he always reverts to his mother's language when around his father.  (no actually  **you** didn’t)

“What was that, speak up.”

“Nothing, dad. It was nothing.” Jack says disappointedly.

“Well, I heard something from Lee that I hope is nonsense.” John clears his throat nervously, “Appartantly you told Charles Lee, whose father is very important in the passing of my bill,” John shivers at the mention of The Bill, “ to ‘fuck off’,” Henry’s mouth curls in distaste at the curse word. “Did you?” His voice rises in anger.

“Well, to be fair dad, I said a lot of things.” John has no sense of self-preservation and this is proof - he should have kept his mouth shut.

“John!” his booming voice feels wrong saying that name. John feels like that name belongs to New York, belongs to Columbia, belongs to Alex: Henry should not be saying it. “I have just announced a new bill and you decide now is the time to yell obscenities at people and in public no less?”

“Well, he wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“Stop talking back at me. You ought to respect your elders, Jack.” Henry sighs, “This simply won’t do, Jack. I would punish you but you are halfway across the country. I should have brought you to school here. You will be punished though” John’s nervous now, although the punishment can’t be that bad, he reasons internally. Henry looks to the side then smiles a sly grin, “You will have to stay in New York for thanksgiving, I know how much you must miss your siblings.”

John’s face falls - he was looking forward to going home but now he’ll have to spend thanksgiving in the dorms by himself. Henry looks proud of himself, clearly pleased with John’s displeasure, “That settles it - you have to do thanksgiving by yourself while you learn some manners and respect.”

“Okay.” John wants to fight back but his brain is exhausted and he doesn’t want to secure himself an even worse punishment. He just nods to his father as he disconnects the call.

“What was that all about then.” Shit. John was so focussed on his father’s call he had missed Alex coming back into the dorm. Alex notices John’s face, “You alright?”

“Yeah, my dad just called.”

“Oh,” Alex’s face curls in dislike, “What did he say?”

“I can’t go home for thanksgiving.”

“What!” Hamilton is outraged, he looks like he could punch someone, “But you were so excited to go see your siblings!”

“He said it’s my punishment for yelling at Lee.” John says glumly.

“You yelled at Lee! Good on you,” He pauses and thinks for half a second then continues, “You should come to Mount Vernon with Laf and I.” John stares at Hamilton, his eyes voicing his concern, “C’mon your dad won’t know about it and the Washingtons won’t mind.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, I’ll just stay here, it’ll be fine.”

“But it would be so much fun, George and Martha won’t mind you staying and Laf would love for you to come,” Alex tries to convince the other boy.

“No, really Alex it’s fine. It’s my fault anyway I shouldn’t have yelled at Lee and now I’m paying. I can see my siblings at Christmas.”

“Fine, but this isn’t over,” he looks over John’s shoulder at his computer, “Is that your PolSci essay, want some help?”

“Sure,” John is welcome for the distraction from his father. Him and Alex sit at his small desk talking about checks and balances until Laf comes in.

“Oui oui, mes amis je suis ici!” he exclaims as he comes bounding into the room, “We are to hangout,” he looks at John’s confused face, “Alexandre texted me, but if you are busy I can go join Hercules.”

“Nah, Laf it’s fine. Alex was just helping with my PolSci essay.” John reassures.

“Yeah, I need your help convincing John to come home with us for Thanksgiving,” Alex says.

“Why - can you not go home John?” Laf asks as he lounges on Alex’s bed.

“My dad got mad that I yelled at Lee. It’s fine you guys, I can just stay here. I don’t need to go with you to Mount Vernon, it’s really alright.”

“Non!” Laf is indignant in his protest, “You will come with us - it will be fun!”

“Y'all that is a bad idea. Really you guys it’s fine. Thanksgiving in New York will be fun.” John’s smile is disingenuous and doesn't reach his eyes.

“Sure. But it’s not going to be fun if you’re by yourself, which is why you should come with us.” Alex isn’t falling for any of John’s bullshit, he knows how much he was looking forward to Thanksgiving in Charleston as well as seeing his siblings.

John can’t help but want to go with the two brothers. From what he’s heard the Washington’s home in Virginia does seem like a nice place to spend the holidays and he could be with his friends, “Fine,” he agrees: John never really had much self-control “But you need to check with your parents first. I don’t want to intrude.” His father may not have taught him manners but Eleanor did.

Alex and Laf are elated and Laf quickly calls Martha, “Bonjour Mamon. Can our friend come for Thanksgiving. His father says he cannot go home.”

Alex and John can’t properly hear the woman on the other end of the phone but her tone sounds happy, “D’accord.” He disconnects the call and addresses the two other men in the room, “Mamon says you are welcome to come.”

The next day the three men get ready for their trip excitedly. Laf explains to John that they will be driving to Virginia in Alex’s car. The journey is long but enjoyable with all of them rapping along with the music. John is sitting in the front seat next to Alex and he can’t help himself from staring at Alex’s passion that comes through when singing along to the loud music. He resigns himself, in that car ride, to let these feelings pass. He’s still sure he’s straight but he’s just going through a phase - everyone does. He can let the crush pass and just be friends with Alex. It will all be okay - he’s straight, he just thinks Alex is hot and that will pass. 

They arrive in Virginia and are welcomed warmly by a short woman with light brown hair and welcoming brown eyes. She hugs Alex and Laf separately with her long arms. She looks nothing like John’s mum back home or his mother but she has the same maternal comfort in her embrace as she hugs John, 

“So, you’re Alex and Gil’s friend? What’s your name, son?” A man appears behind the woman and sticks his large hand out for John to shake. 

“I’m John, sir, John Laurens.” The man hesitates and John looks down at the gravel driveway.

“Nice to meet you.” The man extends his hand once again and John shakes it firmly, “How’s your father?” he asks as the boys step into the large house.

“Well, I believe. I haven’t seen him in a long time, sir.”

“Of course, do you know anything about-” he’s cut off by the woman thumping him lightly on his large arm.

“George! I told you, no work talk while the boys are home.” George laughs and apologises.

“Sorry, Martha. It’s great to have you, John. I’m sure Alex can show you to your room.” He smiles warmly at John as he walks up the stairs flanked by his two friends. The room is big and blank, with a large double bed with cream and peach stripes along the bedsheets.

“My bedroom is next door and Alexandre’s is down the hall. We will let you get settled in, yes.” Laf and Alex walk out of the room, leaving John alone in the massive space. He hears them go downstairs and the low murmur of conversation as he unpacks his small duffel bag.

Alex and Laf make their way downstairs and are greeted by their parents, “Why didn’t you tell us you were bringing over John Laurens? You know Henry Laurens is my competitor, and I worry about the beliefs he will have instilled in his children.”

“Papa!” Laf indignantly interjects.

“I’m just worried about your safety.” 

“John isn’t like that, George.” Alex says, anger rising in his voice, “I hate his dad as much as you do but he isn’t like that.”

“Give him a chance, darling, if Alex trusts him I’m sure we can,” Martha says, placing a calming hand on George’s bicep.

“Fine,” George says but there’s still a hesitant gleam in his eyes and his hands are balled into fists. 

Dinner passes awkwardly with George hardly covering his annoyance towards the young Laurens. Martha keeps passing nervous glances John’s way but always reigns in her husband when he gets too aggressive and Laurens shys away. Alex is glad when it’s over and they’re clearing away the plates.

***

Both Martha and George have to work the next day so it’s just the three students in their big kitchen trying (and failing) to bake. Well, Alex and John are failing, but Laf is actually quite a good baker. He keeps trying to get Alex and John to help but they keep getting distracted: by each other. His patience breaks when they’re staring into each other's eyes over the recipe book, talking in hushed tones. Their faces are so close Laf wants to physically push their heads together.

“Just fuck already, please, the sexual tension is too much.” He says right as Martha walks into the room.

“Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette, Language!” She exclaims, grabbing .

“Uh oh the full name,” Alex jokes, his face almost as red as John’s.

“I apologise Mamon, Alexandre, mon Chou,” Laf says and Martha walks back into her office after retrieving what she wanted from the fridge.

Alex bursts out laughing, “He called you his cabbage, John! A cabbage!” Now all of them are laughing.

“It is a - how you say - a name of affection in France.” Laf interjects.

“It’s fine, I like cabbages,” The three of them laugh and peace is restored between the friends. 

The rest of the weekend passes without incident and George finally becomes less agitated towards John by the time the boys are heading back to college. The drive back to New York is cheerful but John’s mind is plagued with thoughts of Alex. He thought this crush would be gone by now. But staying with Alex, seeing his bedroom - which is not surprisingly a mess - seeing his home, it just made it worse. He thinks it over in his brain. John is pretty sure he’s straight - he had a fucking girlfirend. He just doesn’t understand this whole Alex thing. It feels like as soon as the road trip has started it’s over and they’re back at Columbia.

John is walking back to the dorms with Alex and Laf when he is ambushed by the youngest Schuyler sibling. They are clearly excited with John's return, “John! I need to talk to you!”

“Okay, Pegs, in a sec. I need to put my bag in my dorm.”

“No you don’t, Alex can take them. Can’t you Alex?” They turn to glare at Alex who hurriedly takes John’s bag off him.

“Go. They might kill us all if you don’t.” John and Alex laugh but Peggy stays serious.

“I will. Now come on John.” John is dragged away by Peggy, “So tell me, how did it go. Did you confess your love to Alex? Did y'all kiss?”

“Shut up,” John shushes them, “Wait ‘til we get there alright.”

“Fine.” Peggy huffs. Their ears are filled with silence until the gate creaks and they sit in the small playground. John is sitting on the swing, while Peggy is on the grass, “So, what happened that you're so secretive about?”

“I don’t know what happened Pegs. I just. Fuck.” John looks down and tries to prevent the tears from falling out of his eyes. Peggy reaches up and grabs his hand in their own.

“You like Alex and that scares you?” They ask. John just nods. Peggy gets up from their seat on the grass and walks over to the swing then sits down next to John. They place a reassuring arm over his shoulder. They look into his teary eyes, “Let it all out.”

John lets out a loud sob and they just sit there, John leaning on Peggy: sobbing. Eventually he manages to form words, “I don’t know, Pegs,” another stray sob releases itself.

Peggy pulls him closer into their parental embrace, “It’s okay,” they repeat until John is calm again. They look into his eyes and say, “I’m not going to hurt you, it’s okay. You can trust me.” 

John nods, “I just, I can’t be whatever I am. I can’t”

“Because of your father,” John nods again, “Well, let’s pretend he doesn’t exist. In this park, here, now, it’s just you and me.”

“Okay.”

“So: Alex,” John smiles lazily at the mention of his name.

“I can’t stop thinking about him and I just can’t avoid him ‘cause I feel like I need to talk to him, you know? And then when I do I feel like I can’t talk and my stomach feels like it’s doing flips,” A smile is plastered across his tear-stained face.

“Sounds like somebody has a crush!” Peggy sounds excited.

John sinks into the swing, his face blushing bright red, “Yeah, I guess I do. But that doesn’t matter. I’m not gay.” He tries to say with an air of definity but it comes out flat and hollow. 

Peggy pulls him closer, “Nobody is saying you are, but you have to let in the idea that you might be.” The tears fall openly down his face, betraying his brain’s yells to stop.

“I can’t be, I had a girlfriend. I-” He falters and his face falls into his open palms.

“Hey,” They comfort, “You can like boys and girls and everything in between. There aren’t any rules about this.”

“I just feel so different. Like, I’m in the eye of a hurricane, like everything is quiet except him, for just a moment; it feels like it’s just the two of us and everything else fades away.”

“What about your girlfriend?” Peggy surprises John with their bluntness but there is still kindness written all over their face.

John shrugs, “We were friends. She asked me out. I accepted. I loved her, I cared about her. I kissed her, I held her hand, I took her on dates.”

“But it didn’t feel like Alex.” 

John shakes his head,“It didn’t feel like anything. That’s why I think I’m gay, not those other things,” he chokes out a sob, “Not that that matters.”

“It might not matter to your father, but it matters to me. It matters here. So would you like to come out to me?”

“I’m gay.” He says after a long pause. Peggy hugs him tightly and they sit there. On the swing, tears falling from both their faces, staring at the darkening sky and ignoring the real world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, I'm so happy for John that he can admit that, and that he has friends who support him through it. This chapter has taken me a while to write (and I did add in John going with Laf and Alex just to put in Laf's full name).
> 
> I hope you enjoyed that. As I said this is my first fanfic so I apologise if the writing is bad. I don't know when the next chapter will be out given this fic is purely for self-indulgence, but I hope to have it done soon. 
> 
> Thanks for reading.


	8. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for the winter holidays and John is going back to South Carolina...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this has taken so long to get out, my school has just started again and it's a lot (I literally have school on a Saturday ;((( )
> 
> ...
> 
> some things to start:
> 
> there are no political motives behind this, but, it is a queer love story and I will have a bias however I will try not to let it show. Henry Laurens is a bad person in this AU because of what he does to his family and how he treats people - not because of his political beliefs.
> 
> Laf is a trans male (he/him) and Peggy is a non-binary person and uses they/them pronouns. I ask you to respect their pronouns in the comments.
> 
> most of these characters are queer but I can't be bothered to think of their exact sexualities right now but yeah - basically no-one is straight. Also Laurens is oblivious to his own not-straightness (i don't know how he's very gay but ANYWAY).
> 
> I hope you enjoy this but it is my first fanfic so tell me if it's horrible.
> 
> Please comment what you think about this, it’s really helpful to see what people think!!

Alexander Hamilton has a crush on John Laurens. 

Laf was right, like he always is. Alex likes John’s light brown curls, his big smile reserved for his friends, his determination, his freckles - every single one of them. That trip to Mount Vernon had almost been too much, everyday John got happier and happier and without the workload of college they spent way more time together than usual. That day, in the kitchen, the realisation came over Alex - with the help of Laf’s harsh words. Alex couldn’t help but admit that John is the best person to ever come into his life and all he wants to do is to keep him in his life. Which is why, the upcoming winter holidays strike fear straight into Alex’s heart. It’s not a very long break but it’s a break nonetheless. A break from waking up from his 4 hours of sleep to John’s equally tired face, his face red from the warmth of his thick blanket. A break from awkwardly brushing hands with him while editing essays (as a side note Alex might actually be glad for a break from John’s essays - they’re not that great.) The break also means John going back to South Carolina, or more importantly, his father. 

Alex isn’t entirely sure what he’s scared of: John getting hurt, Henry hurting John, Henry convincing John to be like him. John changing.

***

The drive back to South Carolina gives John some time to think, without the suffocating feeling of Alex. Although he was looking forward to not having to constantly think about Alex, his mind constantly seems to drift back there: back to his long, shiny hair, back to his high cheekbones, back to his badly shaved facial hair, back to his pink lips. As he gets onto the freeway eh actually tries to organize his thoughts into a list:

  
  


  * He’s gay.
  * His dad says that’s bad
  * Peggy says it’s alright
  * Laf says it’s alright
  * John thinks it’s alright…



John doesn’t just think it’s alright; he knows it’s alright. He also knows that Henry does not need to know about it, not yet at least. 

That thought kind of scares him, sure, he’s lied to his dad before but never about something so supremely earth-shattering. He tells himself to relax, just get through Christmas. His hand moves subconsciously from the wheel of his car to his forearm - his tattoo. He thinks about it’s meaning; he thinks about Peggy, Laf, Herc, Alex; he thinks about New York; he thinks about how he almost called it home.

The drive passes quickly, as John anticipates his reunion with his siblings. The air gets thicker and the temperature increases, so John rolls down his window - welcoming in the warm embrace of South Carolina as he continues down the winding roads towards his house.

The facade is typical of those in the area and it blends in while also sticking out - just like how a good Laurens should be, make sure they don’t pay you attention unless you want it. The house has large conifers trees lining the drive and shuttered windows cover the panelled walls. 

When John parks the car the doorway flies open and two children run out. They both run towards John, led by the smaller freckled boy. He looks similar to John, bar his bright blonde hair. He reaches John as he steps out of the car and jumps into his arms. John lifts his slight frame and groans, “You’ve gotten big Jemmy!”

Jemmy quickly jumps out of John’s grip, “Yeah! Dad says I’m gonna be super tall one day, just like you!”

John laughs, “I’m not that tall, you should see the skyscrapers in New York.”

“I’m going to be as tall as them one day!” He squeals excitedly.

He’s pushed aside by an older girl, “Welcome back, Jacky,” she says excitedly. She looks just like Jemmy: all freckles and pale skin and curly blonde hair. 

“Mary!” He scoops her small frame in his arms and lifts her against his chest, “Good to see you too, bubs.”

“Put me down, I’m a big girl now.” She wriggles out of his weak grip.

“Really?” Jack jokes.

“Yes, I’m almost thirteen,” she says, putting emphasis on the ‘teen’.

He pats her head, “Almost, bubs, almost.”

As they head up the long driveway two more figures appear on the large front porch, “Welcome home, Jack,” the girl - looking more like a young woman now - jumps towards John, embracing him in a warm hug, “It’s good to have you back.”

“Good to see you,” The boy, who looks exactly like his father says; sticking out a soft, pale hand at his brother. He looks very different to when John last saw him, he’s a lot taller now - taller than John (although he hasn’t quite filled out his tall build resulting in him looking a bit like a beanstalk). His hair is cut short and brushed neatly, making it appear much straighter than John knows it really is and his eyes no longer carry the light hope that they once did. 

John shakes his hand then pulls him into a hug, “Good to see you too, Harry.”

“Actually it’s Henry now,” John slowly nods then is led into the house by the gaggle of children. He drops back to talk to Martha, the girl from the porch.

“Is Harry okay?” He asks quietly, eying the three younger siblings ahead of them.

She sighs, “I think he’s fine. He’s just decided to be the man of the house now you’re gone and dad’s always working. You know with the new bill and all that.” John grimaces, “I’ve been keeping an eye on him, though,”

He tucks her under his arm, “What would we do without you, Mars?”

John feels an overwhelming feeling of joy as he’s pulled through his childhood home by his four siblings. They all look drastically different from when he left but their smiles still leave him with a warm, happy feeling in his gut. A feeling that not even seeing his father can wash away, “Jack,” he greets as he rises from his desk. He grasps John’s hand firmly, “Good to see you,” his hand squeezes John’s, “Too bad you couldn’t make it for thanksgiving.”

John smiles awkwardly, “Yes sir,” he knows what his father just said was a threat but he can’t bring himself to care with Jemmy hanging onto his left hand, “I’m glad to be home.” 

Jemmy pulls him away from the large study and is excitedly jabbering about his sports team at school. That evening John slots right back into his old life - he manages to get through the overly formal family dinner and his father’s lowly veiled taunts and threats. He sleeps in his childhood bedroom, which looks even more generic than before he went away to college. All the things that show a teenager once lived in this room are gone. John doesn’t mind though, because he gets to see his siblings - for a whole week. 

The next day he is woken up by Jemmy jumping on his bed - at 6am. He had gotten used to just waking up for classes - which started at 10 at the earliest. He wipes his eyes and blearily smiles at his younger brother who is already excitedly talking about the activities of the day. They eat the pancakes Martha has expertly made and John drinks enough coffee to make even Alexander proud.

After breakfast John puts on some jeans and a yellow hoodie Peggy bought him ‘for the New York winters’. It’s probably a bit thick to be worn in Carolina but he enjoys the memories that come with putting it on, “Hurry up, Jacky! We’re playing hide and seek!” A high pitched voice squeals from the doorway.

“Coming Jemmy.” He puts his hair into a tight ponytail and follows his younger brother into the big garden at the back of the house.

“You hide, I seek.”

John smiles, “Alright buddy,” then goes to crouch by some bushes - easy enough that a 7-year-old can find him without having a tantrum. 

Squatting in the bush, he hears Jemmy counting to ten and wandering around the garden, he gets hot and pushes up his hoodie sleeves - he has been getting more used to the cold New York winter for sure. He peeks out of the bush to see his seven-year-old brother rushing toward him, “I found you, Jacky!” He yells, seeing John’s curly head of hair over the green leaves. 

John jumps out from the bush, “You found me Jemmy,” he ruffles the younger’s hair.

“Jacky,” Jemmy holds onto Jacks hand and pulls his arm closer, “What’s that?” He asks, pointing to John’s tattoo.

John kneels next to the blonde boy, “This is a tattoo, Jemmy, it’s like a piece of art on my skin.”

“Wow,” Jemmy breathes.

“It’s pretty cool isn’t it? My friend gave it to me.”

“Jack,” John looks up to see Harry looking down at the pair.

John clears his throat nervously, “Harry.”

Harry turns back towards the house and begins walking with meaning, “Jacky?” Jemmy asks quietly, “Why is Harry upset at your tattoo?” He can’t quite pronounce the ‘t’s in the middle of the word and beneath the anxiousness, John thinks it’s adorable.

“I don’t know, bud, he’s changed a lot since I left.”

“Jack,” a cold voice comes from the doorway. John looks up to see his father and Harry standing on the porch. Their equally tall figures appearing imposingly at the doorway. Looking at them like that; side by side; faces set in the same cold, calm expression; John understands why Harry goes by Henry now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to reiterate how sorry I am, I really wanted to get this out but school really takes over my life in a way I forgot. I've been really enjoying reading fics though ( I would highly suggest checking out KivrinEngle ), and I want to give you guys the same escape through my fics. 
> 
> I actually have the Saturday off this weekend and I'm really looking forward to it, I'll try to write ;) I also had a DEBATE today. It was kind of weird, because it was on zoom but it was pretty good (defo not just because my team won lol).
> 
> anywho I'll stop ranting about my life... How's your life going right now?
> 
> \---
> 
> I hope you enjoyed that. As I said this is my first fanfic so I apologise if the writing is bad. I don't know when the next chapter will be out given this fic is purely for self-indulgence, but I hope to have it done soon. 
> 
> Thanks for reading.


	9. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a conversation with Henry, John goes back to New York and is shocked to find Alex still in the dorm room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry...
> 
> This chapter has depictions of physical abuse. So, a huge trigger warning. If you want to skip this whole chapter you can although I have sign-posted the descriptions if you want to skip them. I will also put the general points of conversation in the end notes.

*TRIGGER WARNING*

John rises from his crouching position on the lawn and ruffles Jemmy’s hair. Time dilates while John walks towards what he is sure will be a _fun_ conversation with his father. After what feels like an eternity he gets to the porch and he feels his father’s hand on his shoulder, “I need to talk to you, Jack.”

His grip on John’s shoulder tightens.

Henry leads the way into his study, Harry following the two older men into the wood panelled room. John eyes him nervously, trying to tell him to leave, but the younger just doesn’t get the message. 

Henry closes the door and the sound of it locking echoes throughout the room, Shit, John thinks, he’s in for it. “Jack,” there is absolutely no warmth in his father's voice, and it contrasts the warm room. Warm oak panelling, the warm fireplace, all making John feel like what he knows is about to happen is not what this room was designed for. “Do you know why you are here?”

“No,” John says, too tired and anxious to actually speak in full sentences.

“Roll up your sleeve and you’ll see.” 

_** *description of physical abuse* ** _

John complies with his father’s wishes, while glaring defiantly into his cool, steely eyes. Henry raises his pasty hand and slaps John across the cheek.

Out of the corner of his eye, John sees Harry flinch and look down, but he doesn’t feel anger, he feels pity. He looks at this _boy_ and knows what he’s been going through. John is used to being slapped, hit, kicked by their father; anything to keep his siblings safe, he could take it. But then he left for college and Henry needed a new punching bag, so Harry stepped up to the plate. 

“I sent you to New York to get an education and you dissolve into a life of sin,” his rage is apparent in his voice, “How do you expect to be taken seriously as a lawyer and politician if you are covered in ink?”

“I already told you, dad,” John spits, “I don’t want to be a lawyer, or a fucking politician.”

Another slap, this time the other cheek.

“This, again,” Henry says, his patience running thin, “I already told you, Jack, it is the appropriate job for your family. Politics is my legacy - one I fully expect you to fulfil.”

“I don’t care. I don’t want to be a lawyer, I want to do something I’m good at, something I enjoy.” 

Henry grabs his hoodie and pushes John against the wall with a resounding thud as John’s head slams into the old oak, “I will not listen to this for a second time, Jack, one of my children will not devolve into a degenerate artist. That's a job for fucking pansies.”

“But I’m good at it dad,” John says through the pain echoing all over his brain, “I could get a scholarship. I’ve talked to my professor and she agrees, I would just have to switch majors. I’ve already applied.”

“I already told you Jack, let it go!” Henry exclaims, punctuating his sentence by punching John in the gut.

“I could pay, dad, I got a job and everything.”

Another slap.

“At least tell me this ‘job’ is something professional, I am not letting you, my eldest son, eldest mistake, to be the disappointment of this family anymore than you already are.”

John goes to say something but his father interrupts him, “I’d watch your tongue. My patience is wearing thin.”

John almost laughs at the irony. If this is his patience wearing thin, John wonders the condition he’ll be in once it breaks.

“It’s perfectly respectable for a college student dad,” John says as calmly as he can with his head splitting pain, “I work at a coffee shop.”

“And you did not think it appropriate to tell me of this?” Henry asks, all the while his fists are pummelling at John’s stomach rendering him useless to speak, “The name, Jack, The name of the shop?”

John coughs then mumbles, "The Schuyler Coffee House,” through the blackness that is impeding his vision. 

Suddenly he’s thrown to the hard, wooden floor and Henry is kicking him repeatedly. “I raised you to be a respectable young man and what, you go to New York for one semester and you return with- with-” John feels blood pool in his mouth as he coughs with each kick from his father, “A sinful tattoo and working in a sinful place, with sinful people.”

He spits on John.

“Any other sins you would like to confess?” Henry asks with scorn drawn across his already harsh features.

John slowly gets up from the floor and levels with his father, “Oh wouldn’t you like to know?” He almost laughs until Henry pushes him against the wall once more.

Henry once again grabs John’s lapel and bangs his head against the wall. 

“I’m gay.”

He said it. The thing he didn’t want to say. The thing he thought he couldn’t say. He’s almost proud of himself until he feels his body hit the floor.

“Get out! Get out of my house you disgrace!” He yells at John, who is crouched on the floor, trying not to cry. He points at his younger son, “Harry, get this disgrace out of my sight.”

_***end of description*** _

John feels a softer hand placed on his shoulder, pulling him up gently. He coughs as he stands and leans into the touch. Harry basically carries John to his room where John sits on the bed. Harry begins packing up his duffel bag, “I’m sorry, John. I-I didn’t know,” his breath falters and he wipes away a tear falling down his face. 

“It’s okay.” John croaks. He wants to go to New York. He wants to get out of this unfamiliar room and back to the cramped comfort of his New York dorm room, he wants the smell of Alex’s cologne to fill his nostrils, he wants the to feel the rough, badly laundered sheets under his skin: 

He wants to go home.

Harry continues packing the small bag in silence, both men crying but neither making a sound, if there’s one thing you learn as a Laurens; it’s how to cry silently. Soon, the bag is packed and they are walking, or in John’s case stumbling, down the wooden stairs. Finally, they make it to John’s car. Harry softly says, “I’m so sorry.”

John leans into the car seat, “Look after yourself, look after the others. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

Harry walks away from the car as John backs out of the driveway. His brain completely leaves his body for the whole car journey. He focuses completely on the road and driving, but no thoughts run through his mind. 

***

He gets to New York and is greeted by what appears to be an empty Columbia campus and dorm building, he quickly climbs the stairs, ignoring the protests of his muscles. His whole body aches and he longs for his bed. He thanks God Alex won’t be there. He walks into the room.

“John?”

Shit. Alex is sitting at his desk, his face filled with worry.

“Is that a black eye?” Alex asks, getting up from his chair.

John allows himself to be eased onto his bed by Alex, “Why are you here? I thought you were with the Washingtons.” John asks as Alex scrambles around for some kind of first aid.

“George needed to be here for something, so we’re having Christmas in the city. A more pressing question: what the fuck happened to you?” Alex rises from the floor with a first aid kit in hand.

John remains quiet.

“Can I?” Alex asks, gesturing towards John, who nods. 

John inhales deeply as Alex takes a seat on his lap. Their faces centimetres apart. John feels Alex wipe at the cut across his cheek. He tries to even out his breathing but Alex’s closeness is making that really difficult, “Who would do this to you?” Alex asks. John isn’t sure how to respond, does he tell Alex and risk his father happening again, Alex beating him up? But Alex is wiping his face, cleaning him up. He can trust Alex.

He _does_ trust Alex. 

“My dad,” he breathes and Alex’s breath hitches.

“Why the fuck would he do this?” Alex’s voice is soft, unlike the harsh tones of Henry and it makes John want to tell him more. He isn’t sure why.

“I told him,” John takes a deep breath and says those two words, he’s already said once that day, “I’m gay.” Alex leans back and John looks down, “I’m sorry.” John isn’t sure why he says it but it just falls out of his mouth on instinct.

Alex lifts up his chin, “Don’t ever be sorry for being who you are. I can’t believe he did this to you. Did he hit you anywhere else?” He tries to get up from John’s lap but John pulls him back down.

“Don’t go.” He says quietly.

“John.” Alex breathes, “Are you okay?”

“I want to kiss you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The conversation (-abuse)  
> Henry asks John about the tattoo, John shows it to him.  
> He calls John a sinner.  
> John feels bad for Harry because he knows what Henry probably done to him.  
> John says he doesn't want to be a lawyer/politician  
> John brings up the art scholarship and Henry says he can't do it.  
> John tells Henry about the job he got at the coffee shop.  
> Henry says it's a 'sinful place'.  
> Henry asks John if he has any more sins he would like to confess.  
> John comes out.
> 
> Again... I'm sorry. 
> 
> (I'm not really sorry *laughs in evil cliff-hanger author*)
> 
> I'm looking forward to writing the next part, and to reading your comments. I'm currently sick so hopefully I'll have some more time to write. Stay safe <3


	10. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John gets an e-mail from Columbia about the art scholarship he applied for...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this chapter is so short and it's taken so long to update, I've been posting a couple of different things on my account and actually lost my plan for this chapter so I found it really hard to motivate myself to write it.
> 
> Anyways hope you guys enjoy xx
> 
> as usual: some things to start:
> 
> there are no political motives behind this, but, it is a queer love story and I will have a bias however I will try not to let it show. Henry Laurens is a bad person in this AU because of what he does to his family and how he treats people - not because of his political beliefs.
> 
> Laf is a trans male (he/him) and Peggy is a non-binary person and uses they/them pronouns. I ask you to respect their pronouns in the comments.
> 
> most of these characters are queer but I can't be bothered to think of their exact sexualities right now but yeah - basically no-one is straight. Also Laurens is oblivious to his own not-straightness (i don't know how he's very gay but ANYWAY).

Suddenly a rumble of thunder crashes through the dorm room - silencing John’s voice and causing Alex to hurriedly jump off John - stopping the kiss that was sure to happen. He runs to his bed and hides under the covers. If it weren’t for his immense panic and memories from the hurricane, he would be embarrassed. 

John follows Alex, although his movements are slower and more calculated, “Alexander? I’m sorry, is this my fault?”

Another thundering crash of thunder reverberates around the small room making Alex whimper and weep even more. John places a delicate hand on Alex’s shoulder, “Alex talk, please.” 

Alex lifts up the duvet in a moment of quiet, his eyes shining and red. John takes this as an invitation and gets into Alex’s bed, wrapping the smaller man in his arms, “Alex what’s happening? Please tell me,” his voice is strained with worry. 

“When I was seventeen a hurricane destroyed my town, I didn’t drown,” he sighs, “I couldn’t seem to die.”

John gently strokes the other man’s back, encouraging him to continue. 

“My brother, he,” Alex tries to swallow a sob and fails, releasing another wave of weeping from his skinny shoulders, “He didn’t make it.” John pulls Alex even closer and they stay like that for the rest of the night; eventually falling asleep.

***

Alexander wakes up the next morning very disorientated, curled up next to John. He vaguely remembers John coming back all beaten up, but doesn’t remember almost kissing him, just the rumble of thunder and running to his bed. He does not remember letting John in, but he doesn’t regret it. 

John eventually wakes up, after Alex definitely doesn’t just stare at him in the golden light of the rising sun, and stretches out, “Are you okay?” he asks, a blush rising from his neck across his freckled face, the action brings Alex back to the mottled purple bruising covering a large proportion of his face. 

Alex just nods. He so wants to kiss John but doesn’t: ‘just because John likes men doesn’t mean he likes you’ he thinks. 

John glances at the alarm clock on the small bedside table, which is almost obscured by stacks of books, and quickly leaps from the single bed then winces, “Shit, I’ve got a class in five minutes. You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah John, I’m fine. I just don’t like storms.”

“Okay.”

John speedily collects his things then walks out the room - looking like a cute mess Alex thinks - as he’s at the door he says, “Sorry, by the way. I know I overstepped, I was just stressed, I’m sorry.”

Alex has absolutely no clue what he is talking about.

“It’s okay,” is all his tired brain could think to say.

Alex stays in bed and actually relaxes for once; something he hasn’t done since coming to college. He thinks about what John could have possibly done to ‘overstep’ but can’t think of anything, except maybe falling asleep holding Alex. 

At around 11 he has to go to a class so he fills up his extra-large thermos and heads to the lecture hall. It’s one of his least favourite classes - with Professor Adams and Thomas Jeffershit. He’s too fucking tired to deal with them today but he cares more about his degree than his feeling so sucks it up and goes to the class. Luckily, it passes with only a couple of slurs whispered under Thomas’ breath, which he counts as a win.

After grabbing a quick lunch he heads back to the dorm. When he walks in he almost falls over because of the smell. The smell is horrific but John is still in the room, “What the fuck is that,” Alex asks, coughing.

“Shit, sorry,” John rises from his chair - his already purple face now streaked with yellow and runs to open a window, “Please tell me you aren’t asthmatic.” Alex shakes his head but continues to cough, “It’s the turpentine,” John says, lifting a small, glass jar, “For the oil paint.”

Alex finally stops coughing and croaks, “How the fuck can you paint with that shit?”

John laughs and Alex wants to faint: it’s so beautiful, “You get used to it.” John turns back to the canvas on his desk and goes to pick up his paintbrush but is stopped as a notification rings through the dorm: it’s an email.

John picks up his phone, “It’s from the school,” he says, with a quiver in his voice, “It’s about the art scholarship I applied for.”

Alex rushes to John’s side and is assaulted by the smell yet again. He covers his mouth and nose with his sleeve as he encourages John to read the message. 

He clears his throat:

  
  


_ Dear Mr J Laurens, _

_ We are pleased to inform you that your application for the John Sullivan Fine Arts Scholarship has been accepted.  _

_ We hope you accept by filling out the below listed form to receive your full scholarship and living arrangements for the next 3-4 years of your major. We also request you fill out the second form to confirm your switch from  _ Politics _ to  _ Fine Art  _ majors and to apply for the specialised Sullivan course.  _

  
  


_ Kind Regards, _

_ Dean Nathanael Greene (Columbia, NY) _

He reads the email aloud and Alex immediately scoops him into a warm hug, “You did it.” He practically yells. He sees John’s brown eyes scanning the document over and over, as if to check if the words tell the truth.

“I did it,” he whispers, “I fucking did it.”

He just sits there and it takes all of Alex’s (small amount of) self control not to grab his laptop and fill out the attached forms himself. Instead he asks, “What are you waiting for?”

“I- I don’t know.” He sighs.

“Then fucking do it,” Alex says firmly, slapping John’s shoulder encouragingly. John flinches away, “Sorry,” Alex apologises.

“It’s fine, just a bruise,” John lies.

Alex hums, “Well, you should accept it. Don’t let your dad ruin the life you wanna live.”

And so John does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I am so sorry for the delay and really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter even though not much happened, I swear more will come!!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed that. As I said this is my first fanfic so I apologise if the writing is bad. I don't know when the next chapter will be out given this fic is purely for self-indulgence, but I hope to have it done soon. 
> 
> Thanks for reading.


	11. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John gets a surprise visit from someone he wasn't expecting to ever see again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> adfjkasdklfsdaklfjsdkahfklsdjf. I'm so sorry it's literally been over a month since my last update but I shall explain why later and allow you to read the chapter I'm sure you have all been eagerly awaiting. :)
> 
> I would also like to say this chapter has graphic depictions of domestic abuse as well as mention of alcohol.   
> (as per last time I will mark the abuse within the text)

Weeks go by and John has forgotten the almost-kiss, except that it’s always there; in the back of his mind. When he’s working on his essays about Van Gogh and Rembrant he remembers the essays about political systems, with Alex’s musky scent by his shoulder; at work Alex is normally just one glance away, either working or studying; in the dorm of course there is no escape - from him or his smell or his constantly spreading mess. Even when Ales isn’t there though, John’s brain demands he think about what might have happened if Alex hadn’t lept off of him, or how uncomfortable Alex must be with John now. 

John is slouched over the counter on his shift at the coffee shop, rapidly filling his sketchbook with doodles of the people sitting drinking their coffee doing their work. When the bell rings to indicate someone walking in, John looks up. Of all the billions of people in the world the man who walks through the glass door is the last person John would expect to come into the Schuyler’s coffee house.

It’s Senator Henry Laurens. 

Immediately John stands up straight and shoves his sketchbook aside hurriedly. Peggy, who’s sat drawing with a latte at one of the window tables, looks up at the sudden movement.

“Hey dad,” John stutters.

“Hi Jack, I need to talk to you.” Henry’s steely blue eyes bore into John and he feels as though he’s being interrogated by the police.

John’s brain catches up with what’s going on finally and he replies, “Uh, I can’t really dad. I’m working.”

Henry’s eyes narrow as he stares John in the eyes, “Oh I know, Martha just came down with me because she just really wanted to talk to you. You wouldn’t want to keep her waiting, would you Jack?”

“I can’t just leave, dad.” John replies, exasperated.

“Well, I don’t want to disappoint poor Martha.” 

John remains silent and he tries to comprehend his father’s clearly threatening undertones, as Peggy rises from their seat. “John are you okay?” They ask.

“Yeah,” John hesitates, “Pegs, this is my dad.”

Peggy scans Henry up and down, then flashes a fake smile, “Well, Mr Laurens it’s lovely to finally meet you.” They stick out a calloused hand for a handshake, which the man weakly accepts.

“What a lovely young lady, John, is this your girlfriend?”

“No. This is Peggy,” John says uncomfortably before a wave of confidence runs through him, “ **They** are neither a lady nor my girlfriend. Now please, just let me finish my shift and then we can talk.”

“Fine. I have to get to a meeting anyway, I’ll see you at my hotel in half an hour. Martha will text you the address.” He turns on his heel, scowling at the pair on his way to the door

After he leaves, Peggy turns to face John, “You aren’t actually going to go with him after what he did last time are you?”

“Pegs, it’s fine. I’ll just go talk to my sister.” They try to interrupt but John stops them, “It’s like you said, he doesn’t owe me anything, I can leave when I want.” After a quick pause he continues, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, unfortunately I get that a lot.”

“You shouldn’t have to.” 

Peggy collapses into John’s arms, sobbing. Unsure of what to say, John just hugs them close, rubbing a comforting hand up and down their back.

***

After his shift John walks as quickly as he can to the address Martha sent him: some nice hotel in Manhattan. He shoots a quick text to his younger sister alerting her of his arrival. He’s quickly greeted by her slight form leaping into his arms, “Jacky I missed you!” She yells right in his ear. 

“Missed you too Mars.”

She grabs his hand and physically pulls him towards their hotel room. As soon as they’re inside she begins surveying him, “Are you okay? Harry didn’t say much but I saw you leave.”

He gives her a stern glare, “I’m fine, Martha. I just had a fight with dad.”

“Oh, Okay,” she sighs. 

“Where is he anyway?” John asks, nervously wringing his hands together.

Right on cue his father’s tall frame steps through the doorway, “Glad you could finally join us Jack.”

John awkwardly coughs, “Hi dad.”

He suddenly feels his father’s cold hand wrapped tightly around his bicep, “ I know you and your sister would love to catch up but I need to talk to you.” His father’s tone is cold and uncaring: it sends shivers down John’s spine.

*ABUSE*

John follows the older man into the other room of the fancy suite. As soon as the door is shut he feels a swift hand pass over his face. Immediately his hands fly to protect his cheek and he crouches to avoid Henry’s other hand shooting through the air. 

Henry’s hand finds its way to John’s hoodie collar pulling him up to face his father, “I told you to drop the art and instead I get an email: not from you or the school, but from John Lee. Informing me that you are no longer showing up to your politics classes.” He rests his hands on John’s pec, a clear threat if the younger tries to interrupt, “So I email my contact in administration, who helped you even get into Columbia in the first place, and he tells me that you have transferred into an all arts course.” He spits.

“If you’re worried about money you don’t have to be. I got that scholarship I told you about. It even pays my living expenses, and I can buy food from the job you tried to pull me out of earlier. So you have nothing to worry about and can get your nose out of my business.” John says, pulling all the confidence in his bones to finally stand up to the man in front of him.

“I am your father.” Henry says with an air of finality before he continues, “I only want what’s best for you, John, yet you constantly seem to want to undermine me and my wishes.”

“You don’t want what’s best for me,” John says, his anger rising in his veins. He pushes past Henry, right into his space, “You want what’s best for  _ you _ . But I don’t care anymore, dad, I’m doing what I want, taking control of my life. And if that blows up in my face, I’ll deal with it,” he continues to step menacingly into his father’s space, his voice becoming more of a growl, “So let me live my own life,” he lets his confident façade fall for one minute as he whispers, “Please.”

Henry takes this moment of weakness to push his son back against the wall, reinforced by a painful punch to his gut, “Must I remind you that everything you do reflects on me. I will not have you and your pitiful teenage rebellion ruin my political prospects.”

“It’s not teenage rebellion,” John states through gritted teeth and bated breath, “It’s finally being myself after years of repressing my emotions.”

Henry only shoves his son closer against the wall, so that John’s head slams against the thin plaster, “It is teenage rebellion and you will stop,” the greying man growls, “You will stop thinking you are gay, you will stop with this stupid art degree, you will become a good lawyer, get a nice wife, have a nice family and follow in my footsteps to become a politician.”

John swallows nervously, wishing he could go back to the happy bliss of finally living his life how he wants to.

“You will cut your hair and you will look presentable. You will cut all ties with the Schuylers and those kids who are manipulating your brain and most importantly you  _ will  _ listen to me.”

“No,” John grits. 

His reply is met with a fierce reaction from his father, one hand moving swiftly to his gut. He almost doubles over in pain but is held up by his father’s left hand wrapped strongly around his neck.

It’s squeezing and John’s vision is becoming blurred.

His voice has long since stopped working, a large lump rising in his throat as he struggles for short breaths, but he pleads with his eyes. Praying to some deity he once believed in that his father will see sense and let him go.

The hand eases its hold over his trachea but remains wrapped around his neck: a constant threat. “You are my son, I have complete control over you.”

John takes another shaky, steadying breath, “No you don’t,” he says between gasps, “You can hurt me all you want, you can kill me but freedom is something you can never take away, no matter what they tell you, I will always be gay,” he swallows against the strong grasp, “And I will always be your son and I will always be me. You can’t change that.”

At that the elder of the two steps back. He grabs the open flask of whiskey and pours himself a glass, “You are too much like your mother, Jack, I used to have to tell her,” he glances at his bruised fist as indication of what he actually means, “Several times too. You talk too much and you are far too argumentative.”

He swings at John, who ducks and misses his hit. He watches from the floor as his father downs his entire glass and pours himself another, then downs that too. Letting himself get systematically drunk as he downs glass after glass, “I guess I shall just have to teach you not to do that.” He mumbles, while staring into the amber liquid, before putting it down and running toward his eldest son.

Despite the countless units of alcohol running through his system the older man moves quickly and accurately, throwing his son onto the plush carpeted floor of the hotel, kicking his legs frantically. John stumbles in an attempt to get himself off the floor but fails as his dad’s luxury leather shoe hits him square in the face, forcing one of his hazel eyes closed. His freckled hands, calloused from weeks of consistent painting, rise to protect his face from the onslaught as time dilates. 

He feels as though he’s watching in third person as his dad’s loafer repeatedly assaults his body, feeling the ghost of the pain wash over him. He can’t even feel the blood pool in his mouth as his eyes and brain beg him to shut off. Instead he opens his mouth, but finds himself unable to speak, only cough. 

He hardly registers the spattering of red liquid coming from his mouth as he hears a scream come closer. He hears a female voice begging Henry to stop and he’s aware of a pause on the assault, although his brain tells him it isn’t over.

*ABUSE*

Until he feels slim fingers wrap gently around his bicep and a quiet voice whispering in his ear, “I got him to stop for a bit but you should probably leave before he starts again,” she glances somewhere away from John then her blue eyes once again meet his own, “He had a lot to drink so he’s quite temperamental, especially in this mood.”

John limps through the doorway into the main room of the suite, he almost makes it to the door when he hears a gruff voice from behind him, “Don’t bother coming back,” Then in a lower, darker tone, “Ever.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed that and am once again so sorry for how long it took to post.
> 
> I just managed to fall sideways into reading for other fandoms and then writing for those and new ideas were flooding my head so this took the backseat for a while. Then I had exam week for school, which was very stressful and may I remind you not to make the same mistake as me:
> 
> DO NOT BRING YOUR PHONE INTO AN EXAM HALL.
> 
> I managed to get off lightly but needless to say I had an anxiety-induced stomach ache for the rest of the day.
> 
> Anywho, I finally got round to writing this because I got a new computer set up. My dad was throwing away an old monitor so he gave it to me and I bought myself a new snazzy keyboard and mouse set. Needless to say computer stationary is reason enough for me to finally get back to writing.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed that. As I said this is my first fanfic so I apologise if the writing is bad. I don't know when the next chapter will be out given this fic is purely for self-indulgence, but I hope to have it done soon. 
> 
> Thanks for reading.


End file.
